Jensen
“Grandma, please don’t cry,” I pleaded as I hugged her. One of her hands wiped away her tears, while the other held me close. Her palm was warm, but trembling.
Dad was still standing there, frozen, unable to speak. I thought he had changed in an instant, or at least that my grandmother’s words had touched his heart and opened his mind. No. Not at all.
“I’m thinking about Jensen, and I only want the best for him. I don’t want him to go to the best school and then, because we’re getting divorced, he has to transfer to a school that isn’t as good. I just don’t want that to happen to Jensen,” he argued.
It turned out that he hadn’t changed and couldn’t change.
I thought he at least had some compassion for mom, but it turned out to be just a false hope. He didn’t think about mom at
