But for the parts of him I never knew.
I looked at Daniel again.
He sat quietly, waiting, as if bracing himself for rejection.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted.
“That’s okay,” he replied gently. “You don’t have to say anything.”
We sat there in silence for a long moment.
Then, without thinking, I reached across the table.
My hand covered his.
He froze.
“I lost my husband,” I said softly. “And today… I found a piece of him I didn’t know existed.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“I lost my father,” he said. “Before I ever really had him.”
My throat tightened.
“Well,” I whispered, offering a small, trembling smile, “maybe we don’t have to lose everything.”
Daniel blinked, emotion breaking through.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
I squeezed his hand gently.
“No,” I said honestly. “But I’m willing to try.”
