He needed the apology for me, not himself.
And somehow, at ten years old, he already understood the difference.
When we pulled into the driveway, Mason woke up.
“We’re home?”
Ryan smiled.
“Yeah, buddy.”
Mason looked between us.
“Everything okay?”
Ryan answered before I could.
“We’re working on it.”
“Okay.”
Mason climbed out of the car and went inside.
He didn’t interrogate us.
He didn’t hover.
He had done his part.
Ryan carried the cooler into the kitchen.
Without being asked.
Later, the two of us stood there alone.
“Do you want me to sleep somewhere else tonight?” he asked.
I thought about it.
“No.”
He looked surprised.
“Not tonight.”
“Okay.”
“But tomorrow we talk.”
He nodded.
“Really talk.”
“Yes.”
“I want that.”
Then he headed toward Mason’s room.
A few moments later, I heard Ryan’s voice through the door.
Then Mason answered.
Then they both laughed.
