Paris wasn’t the only time I saw him. He came to my mother’s funeral seven years ago. I was able to hold back my tears, but when he said, “I’m sorry for your loss,” I started to silently cry. Instead of acting awkward or annoyed, he wiped my tears away. I could tell from the way he looked at me that he didn’t remember that night in Paris. He was simply being nice to a young woman who’d just lost her mother in a Jet Ski accident.
Howd he not remember come on
