like damp grass and cedar.
He looked toward the gate. “I thought you’d never forgive me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I haven’t?”
“I forgave you before you knew how badly you’d hurt me. That’s what fathers do. But trust is different. Trust has to walk back on its own legs.”
We sat quietly for a while.
Then I told him something I had not planned to say.
“I’m revising continue reading …