Richard stood in front of the small grocery store, staring at the list in his hand. The paper was slightly crumpled, smudged with baby formula from the morning. But he didn’t care. He read each item again: diapers, baby wipes, gentle soap, teething gel, and Ann’s favorite green tea.
He took a deep breath and stepped inside. It had been two weeks since she’d allowed him back into their son’s life. Two weeks of slow, careful steps. Two weeks of holding back the urge to say too much, do too much. Because he had learned something important. Real apologies don’t start with words. They start with action.
That evening, Ann opened the apartment door and found a bag resting neatly on the floor. A sticky note was taped to the top.
“Didn’t want to disturb you. Just wanted to help. – R”
She looked
