He thought about the birthdays he’d missed. The school plays. The hospital visits. The nights they cried and the mornings they rose anyway. He had abandoned seven lives before they had even begun. And now that they had flourished, it was clear—they had never needed him to grow.
Jules told his siblings everything that evening. The waiting room confrontation. Vincent’s desperation. His excuses. And when Linda heard it, she didn’t cry. She nodded quietly, eyes heavy, as if some long-closed door had finally been sealed shut for good.