Marybeth
The phone rang twice before he answered. I didn’t give myself time to think. If I did, I might stop.
“Marybeth.” His voice was calm. Steady. Like it always was when he already knew something had shifted.
“I’m ready,” I said. A pause. Not surprise. Recognition.
“For what?” he asked.
“To move forward.” The words settled heavier than I expected. But I didn’t take them back.
“And how do you plan to do that?” I could tell from his tone that he was almost too scared to ask. I exhaled slowly, my fingers tightening slightly around the phone.
“I want to meet them.” Another pause. Longer this time.
“You’re sure,” he said. Not a question.
“Yes.” Because I had to be. Because standing in that square, watching Rowan decide my son’s future without ever asking where I fit into it
