Because I remembered the exact conversation.
Twenty-two years earlier.
Richard had been studying for finals while I finished sewing the last few stitches.
“What if it brings you bad luck?” I’d joked, handing him the tiny bear.
He’d clipped it onto his backpack.
“Impossible.”
“How do you know?”
He kissed my forehead.
“Because it came from you.”
Stormy reached across the table and gently nudged Jordan’s arm.
“I think your dad sounds sweet.”
Jordan smiled.
“He is.”
There was affection in his voice. Real affection. The kind that couldn’t be faked.
Which meant Richard had become a good father.
The realization left me with pride, sadness, and more questions than I could bear. I cleared the dessert plates before anyone noticed my hands were shaking.
As I stood at the sink, I heard Stormy laugh behind me.
Then Jordan spoke.
