“So sometimes… dads don’t want to be dads?” My tear ducts activated. It took me a second to say, in a voice I thought was pretty even considering I was real close to weeping, “Sometimes, Agnes. I wish I could tell you why, but I have no idea.” I touched her hair. “But like with my parents that weren’t a part of my life, it wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t anything I did for them to not be with me. I didn’t do anything wrong. I try not to let it hurt my feelings.” I swallowed. “Sometimes it does though. But I was lucky like you are; I had people who loved me and wanted to be in my life. They’re the
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