“It wasn’t your fault.” I shake my head. “You don’t have to pretend.” “I’m not.” She cups my cheek, her eyes searching mine. “When I was eleven, my father left my mother. One day he just packed up and left. It turned out he had another family, and everything he built with my mother, the diner, their marriage—he threw it away in an instant.” I stare at her. “What a fucking dick.”
