Anthony followed, looking much older. When he saw Iris by the fireplace, his face folded.
“Iris,” he said.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Not yet.”
He stopped immediately.
Gina came in first.
Gina looked at me. “I knew Anthony had a daughter. I didn’t know she was the girl my son was taking to prom.”
“I didn’t know Ryan was your son, either. I’m sorry.”
“But you knew Anthony was still out there,” she said. “Iris didn’t.”
Iris looked at Anthony. “Did you know about me?”
“Yes.”
“Did you want me?”
“Yes,” he said, too quickly to be anything but true.
Her face crumpled. “Then where were you?”
“Did you know about me?”
Anthony swallowed. “I missed visits. I took jobs too far away. I told myself I was paying bills, but I was tired and angry. Your mother made it hard, Iris, but I let hard become impossible.”
