“I do.”
“That’s what I mean.”
“No. You thought the system meant it was easy.”
He rubbed his face.
I waited.
For once, I didn’t rescue him from the silence.
“I thought because you knew what they needed, you were better at it,” he said.
“I got better because I had no choice.”
He nodded slowly.
Then he said something I hadn’t expected.
“I liked believing that.”
I looked at him.
He swallowed.
“If you were naturally better at all of this, then I didn’t have to feel guilty for letting you do it.”
It wasn’t an apology.
But it was the first honest sentence he had given me.
I sat across from him.
“Do you understand why I’m not coming home today?”
His jaw tightened.
Then he nodded.
“I don’t like it.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I understand.”
