From time to time, I noticed her studying my reflection in the window.

She was no longer merely curious.

She was trying to picture the woman I had been before becoming her mother.

Once inside, I made coffee because I needed a task for my hands.

Richard remained in the kitchen, examining the family photographs on the walls as though each one represented another year he had missed.

Jordan finally ended the silence.

“Dad…” His eyes moved between us. “What happened?”

Richard placed his hands on the back of a dining chair.

“When I was 23, I thought I had my whole life planned.”

“Graduate. Marry Doron. Find a job somewhere around Boston.”

His gaze moved to me.

“We’d already started arguing about neighborhoods.”

I could not stop myself from smiling.

“You wanted Cambridge.”

“You wanted the North Shore.”

Jordan looked between us.

“You were already arguing about where to live?”

“We considered it excellent communication,” Richard said.

“It was stubbornness,” I corrected.

For the first time since we had returned, the tension loosened.

But only briefly.

“Then my father got sick.”

I frowned.

“I thought he was healthy.”

“He was.”

Richard stared downward.

His voice softened.

“He collapsed at work.”

I searched my memory but found nothing.

“I never knew.”

He rubbed his forehead.

“It happened the week before graduation.”

Jordan leaned closer.

“You never told me that.”

Richard shook his head.

“He was diagnosed with an aggressive neurological disease. The doctors gave him months.”

He continued after a moment.

“My parents had already lost everything keeping my younger sister alive when she had leukemia.”

He looked toward Jordan.

“By then she’d recovered, but the medical debt never did.”

A tired smile crossed his face.

I remained silent.

“My father begged me not to tell Doron.”

My head rose sharply.

“What?”

“He said if I married you…” His voice caught. “…I’d spend the rest of my life dragging you into debt that wasn’t yours.”

“He actually said that?”

Richard nodded.

“He told me love wasn’t enough if I couldn’t give you a stable life.”

Something inside me began to shift.

“I argued with him.”

He gave a bitter laugh.

“He said that was exactly what he was trying to prevent.”

Stormy spoke almost in a whisper.

“So you just…left?”

Richard looked at her with sadness.

“I was 23.”

Then he faced me again.

“My father died eight months later.”

He swallowed.

“Two months after the funeral, I came back.”

I stared at him.

He nodded slowly.

“I drove to your apartment.”

My pulse quickened.

“There was a moving truck outside.”

I immediately remembered the day.

“Then I saw a man carrying boxes into the apartment.”

“When he came back outside, he kissed your forehead.”

I frowned in disbelief.

“Richard…”

“I thought he’d replaced me.”

My lips parted.

Richard continued staring at me.

“He drove down from New Hampshire to help me move.”

Richard shut his eyes.

“I never knocked.”

Something inside me seemed to split apart.

“So we both spent 22 years believing the other one had chosen someone else.”

“Looks that way.”

Jordan did not move.

Stormy looked as though every idea she had about love had suddenly been rewritten.

I stood and crossed to the window.

The evening light stretched over the backyard.

During all those years, I had imagined countless explanations for Richard’s departure.

Another woman.

Fear.

A change of heart.

I had never imagined he believed leaving was an act of protection.

I turned toward him again.

“You should’ve knocked.”

His eyes closed.

“I know.”

My voice broke.

“You would’ve met my brother.”

He lowered his head.

“I know.”

“Instead, we lost 22 years.”

“I know.”

He offered no defense and no excuse.

Only regret.

That made holding onto my anger more difficult.

Jordan looked at his father.

Richard smiled sadly.