Skip to content He fell silent.
Then he asked,
“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way?”
Amelia continued staring at the candle.
“You never asked.”
Ryan looked hurt.
“I ask you things all the time.”
“You ask if school was good.”
Silence.
“You ask if I like Aunt Lina’s apartment.”
Another pause.
“You ask whether dinner tastes good.”
Ryan lowered his eyes.
Amelia’s voice became quieter.
“You never ask if I’m angry.”
I stopped several feet away.
For perhaps the first time, Ryan seemed to understand what our daughter was actually saying.
He took a breath.
“Are you angry with me?”
Amelia nodded.
Once.
Ryan stared at her for a long moment.
Then he slowly nodded too.
“Okay.”
That was it.
No excuse.
No lecture.
No telling her she would understand when she was older.
Just—
Okay.
Then Amelia noticed me.
“Mom!”
She dropped the candle onto the bench and ran straight toward me.
I crouched just before she threw herself into my arms.
“Mom, I ruined Dad’s wedding.”
“No, sweetheart.”
“I did.”
“You were upset.”
I pulled back so I could look into her face.