I’d spent decades convincing myself that some people belong in your past, no matter how much you once wanted them in your future. Then a voice I hadn’t heard in 41 years said my name.
Publicidad
The hospital room was at the end of the hall. I stood outside it with my hand on the door, trying to understand how I’d gotten there. Forty-one years.
That’s how long it had been since I’d seen Jeffrey.
I stood outside it with my hand on the door.
Forty-one years since his last letter and since he’d asked me not to contact him again.
And now his son, Peter, stood beside me, saying, “He’s been asking if you’re here yet.”
I looked at him.
Peter had Jeffrey’s eyes.
“Is he awake?”
“He’s been trying to stay awake for you.”
Publicidad
That almost made me turn around.
Peter had Jeffrey’s eyes.
I was 60
