I overcompensated for my harsh words by taking every opportunity to touch Jonah today—to hold his hand, to tickle his side, to play with his beard—and prove that they’re false. He responded in kind, with smirks and squeezes and back rubs, never withholding an ounce of affection. But I saw it in his eyes. The sadness. The worry. Possibly the worst of all—the same doubt I’m beginning to fear.
