“Your classmates are still graduating. We should let the ceremony finish.”
“How can you be so calm?”
“I’m not calm.”
He placed a hand against his chest.
“My heart feels like it’s trying to break through my ribs. But this day belongs to you and your classmates. I won’t help her take it away.”
So we sat through the rest of the ceremony.
I heard none of it.
When the graduates tossed their caps into the air, mine stayed in my hands.
Dad stood beside me, close enough to catch me if I fell but careful not to touch me without permission.
The security officer gave me the envelope.
Inside were several documents, a photograph of a young man I had never seen, and a letter.
On top of everything was a note written by Rachel.
Ethan loved you enough to raise another man’s child. I was too selfish to raise my own.
