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I knew he was asking for me to give him a minute alone. But my feet didn’t move. I hadn’t truly seen him a moment before. I had studied his beautiful features, but I was so unconnected to him that I didn’t realize he was crying. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees so he could drop his face. So he could remain hidden. So he could keep his secrets. “James?” I wanted to go over to him and rub his back. Or hug him. Or something. I couldn’t casually ask him what was wrong. I knew what was wrong. He had a son that might never see his nursery. We had a son. My eyes dropped to his clenched fist. He was holding an article of clothing in his hand. “What are you looking at?” He put it down on his lap and smoothed the fabric out over his thighs. It was a tiny onesie with a Giants logo
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