There was no anger in my voice.
Just truth.
My mother stepped forward slightly, her voice softer than I had ever heard it.
“We thought you had walked away,” she said.
I nodded.
“I did,” I answered, “from expectations that weren’t mine.”
The silence between us felt different now.
Not heavy.
Just real.
After a moment, my father spoke again.
“We were wrong.”
And that, more than anything else, mattered.
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