“Wait,” he says, sounding breathless. He sighs heavily, and I can practically feel the guilt lacing his pause. “I’m sorry.” Something washes over me. It’s not anger for a past I’ve yet to learn. It’s understanding. “I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve told you what I’d discovered. That you and I weren’t really...” “We are.” I stop him. “You’re more my family than anyone I’ve ever known.”
