“Are you and Mom ever gonna get married?”
“Well…I suppose…You know, your mom and I…well, we’ve been dating for a short time…and…”
“You can leave anytime.”
Silence filled the car. I could promise that I would never leave with the hope it was true. But it wasn’t true when my dad said it to me. Or when Teresa said it to our kids. How do you tell an eight-year-old that love is temporary, even under the best of circumstances? My mom loved me, but her love was temporary too. It ended when her life ended. All that was left of her was silence, like the silence that filled the car.
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