Robert nodded.
“So do I.”
Another silence.
“But I also wish I had answered some of your calls.”
Robert looked up.
“I was the adult.”
“And I stopped being seventeen a long time ago.”
Something changed between them then.
No grand reconciliation.
No dramatic embrace.
Just two men allowing responsibility to exist on both sides of a table.
I realized that was probably how most families repaired themselves.
Not with one perfect conversation.
With dozens of imperfect ones where somebody finally stopped keeping score.
Logan looked at me.
“I did the same thing.”
“What?”
“What they did to me.”
I understood before he explained.
“I decided you couldn’t handle my fear, so I hid it.”
“Yes.”
“I decided silence would hurt you less than the truth.”
“Yes.”
“And when I realized I was wrong, I thought I needed to become perfect before I came back.”
I nodded.
He gave a sad smile.
