“People don’t become perfect when they become parents,” I tell her. “If anything, parenthood gives us more chances to screw things up, just with higher stakes. We all mess up. Sometimes we have to live with that for the rest of our lives. I can’t promise I won’t mess up, but I promise I will love you even when you do. Unconditionally. That means even if you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me, even if you hate me—” “I don’t hate you,” she cuts in softly, eyes on the floor. “It means I’ll always love you no matter what. And we can go on like this, not getting along, you resenting me and
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