“I’ve always loved you, son.” I know. He never let me forget it. “It was a decent ride. The whiskey could’ve been better towards the end.” I can’t laugh at the joke. He stayed sober. My dad stayed sober for a long time. For me. For Ryke. For Willow. For himself. “Will you remember?” he asks, fear creasing his eyes for the first time. “Remember what?” “That I loved you.”
