yet. She’s carrying enough.”
“I’ll handle it. Tisha has enough going on.”
“Let her sleep. She carries enough.”
Once, I’d thought those words were love.
Maybe they were.
But suddenly I heard something else inside them too.
A decision.
Made for me.
“I’ll handle it. Tisha has enough going on.”
***
Daniel’s voice dropped.
“I told him he was doing it again.”
I opened my eyes.
“Doing what?”
“Deciding what you could handle without asking you.”
He wiped his cheek.
“Dad got angry.”
“What did he say?”
“Dad got angry.”
“He said he was dying and didn’t have time to argue.”
“And you?”
Daniel looked toward the door.
“I told him if he wanted you to have your own life so badly, he could start by letting you have your own answers.”
“He said he was dying and didn’t have time to argue.”
Then Daniel looked down at the pink dress.
