“I saved up for you,” he was telling her, very seriously, the way you tell someone a thing they need to know.
“A whole jar.
But it turned out I didn’t need money.
I just needed to tell the truth.”
Grace grabbed his nose.
He laughed.
And I stood in the doorway of the room we painted pale yellow, and I understood that my son had taught me the only thing worth knowing.
You can’t buy back the people you love.
You just have to refuse to stop believing they’re worth coming home for.
THE END
