“So now, every day at three, I sit with her for one hour. I tell her I’m sorry. I tell her I’m sober and what happened at my latest meeting. I read the books she likes. The bookstore manager told my wife what she used to buy, so I went and got them.”
He shrugged.
“It doesn’t change what I did,” he said. “But it’s something I can do that isn’t hiding.”
My eyes were burning.
“You could’ve just stayed away,” I said.
He shut his eyes for a second.
“I tried,” he said. “Didn’t last. My sponsor told me if I wanted to make amends, I had to face it. Not run from it.”
He hesitated.
“My son died when he was 12,” he said quietly. “Bike accident. Nobody’s fault. I know what it feels like to stand where you’re standing.”
I flinched.
“And then you chose to put someone else here,” I said.
He shut his eyes for a second.
I walked back to Hannah’s room.
“I know,” he said. “I live with that every day.”
I stood there, shaking.
“I don’t want you near her,” I said finally. “Not right now.”
He nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll stay away. If you ever change your mind… I’m at the noon meeting on Oak Street. Every day.”
I walked back to Hannah’s room.
“You told him, didn’t you?”
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