something,” I continue. “You could’ve told me why you hate him so much. But instead, you tried to erase him.”
His eyes flick to mine. “You don’t understand.”
“Then help me understand.”
He exhales, long and slow. “He took my place.”
You were always polite, always present on holidays. But you never showed up like he did.”
He looks away.
“And maybe it wasn’t your fault. Maybe you didn’t know how. But Tim stepped in, and he never tried to be you. He just tried to be there.”
“I never stopped loving you,” he says quietly.
“I know,” I say. “But love isn’t always enough. Presence matters.
“No,” I say gently. “You gave up your place. When Mom left, you distanced yourself. You visited once a month. Sometimes less
