At my wife’s birthday party, my son suddenly pointed at her boss and shouted, “Daddy, that’s the man with the caterpillars.”

in my head.

Something inside me was breaking, but something else was hardening in its place.

Clarity. Cold, surgical clarity.

Noah tugged at the hem of my shirt.

“Daddy, did I say something wrong?”

I dropped to one knee and kissed the top of his head. “No, buddy. You told the truth. That’s never wrong.”

Then I straightened up and looked at Marcus.

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