The father who had walked away gave his answer… but it came too late

There was work in the morning. There was dinner to cook. There were ordinary hours ahead, the ordinary hours that make up an ordinary life, and I was grateful for every one of them.

He had left once.

But I didn’t have to carry him with me anymore.

I put the envelope back in my bag, turned up my collar against the October wind, and walked home.

— End —