“That makes sense.”
He looked toward the backstage door.
“Are you going to replace me with them?”
I turned fully toward him.
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“They’re actually your sons.”
“So are you.”
His eyes filled with tears.
He looked away immediately.
Carter hated crying.
Madeline had taught him tears were weakness.
I had never corrected her.
I placed a hand on his shoulder.
“You are my son.”
He swallowed.
“That does not change.”
“What about Mom?”
“I’m divorcing her.”
He nodded slowly.
“I figured.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For putting you in the middle.”
He stood.
“I’ve been in the middle my whole life.”
Then he walked away.
That sentence stayed with me.
