All those nights I’d wondered whether he was keeping dangerous secrets.
He’d been learning how to respond to emergencies.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He gave a sad little smile.
“Because I knew you’d cry.”
I covered my mouth.
“And you already cry enough, Mom.”
I laughed through my tears.
Then I asked something else.
“What about those late-night walks?”
He looked surprised.
“You heard me leaving?”
“Logan, I’m your mother.”
He sighed.
“Sometimes I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about Dad, and everything feels too loud in my head.”
He looked toward the backyard.
“So I walk around the neighborhood until I feel calmer.”
My heart ached.
“You could’ve told me.”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
I moved closer.
“Sweetheart, you never have to protect me from your feelings.”
He looked at me.
“If you’re sad, tell me. If you can’t sleep, come talk to me. Even if it’s three in the morning.”
