Callum covered his face with both hands.
“Do you think there’s any hope left for us?”
I considered the question.
“I honestly don’t know.”
He looked at me desperately, waiting for reassurance.
But I wasn’t ready to offer it.
“I need to understand whether you’re willing to repair the damage you’ve caused, or whether you simply want everything to go back to normal so you don’t have to face the consequences.”
For once, Callum didn’t argue.
He lowered his head.
Then he nodded.
And for the first time since he had presented his carefully planned arrangement, I realized the next decision was finally mine.
Three weeks passed.
On the afternoon Callum was scheduled to collect Kieran, he arrived exactly when he had promised.
The moment our son heard the doorbell, he ran toward the entrance.
“Daddy!”
Callum crouched and wrapped him in a hug.
