I gripped the envelope, stepped out of my car, and walked toward the chapel steps. The afternoon heat of the city felt oppressive, but Mr. Raymond looked frozen.
“Dad,” I whispered, stepping into his shadow.
He flinched slightly, quickly wiping his eyes with the back of his rough, calloused hand before looking up. Even after what I had just done, there was no anger in his eyes. There was only a profound, devastating resignation.
“Julian,” he said, his voice hoarse. He tried to force a small, trembling smile that broke my heart into a thousand pieces. “You shouldn’t have followed me, son. I’m okay. Really. I was just… catching my breath. The city air is heavy today.”
“Get in the car,” I said, my voice thick with unshed tears.
“No, Julian, it’s fine,” he replied, standing up unsteadily, using the stone railing for support. “Your wife… she looked upset. Go back to her. I shouldn’t have come to your home asking for that kind of money. It was selfish of me. You worked hard to get away from the dirt. I have no right to drag you back into it.”
