There's a girl, Dad."

He smiled a bit. "A girl."

"She kinda hates me, and I kinda..."

"Love her?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. I mean...how do you know?"

His smile grew wider. "When you're talking about her with your old dad because you don't know what else to do.

I don’t want you to be sorry. I don’t want you to be anything,” I snapped. Her expression was the final straw. Of course she didn’t want to be around me. I was an infantil asshole that had the emotional control of a three-year-old. I shoved away from the table and pushed through the door, not stopping until I was sitting on my bike.

My brothers nodded their heads in unison. All of them but me. It wasn’t okay. I didn’t want her to leave. I didn’t care if Jesus wanted her or not. She was my mommy. He could take an old mommy. One that didn’t have little boys to take care of.

First of all . . . I have standards. I’ve never been with an ugly woman.
Ever. Second of all, I wanted to sleep with you. I thought about throwing you over my couch fifty different ways, but I haven’t because I don’t see you that way anymore. It’s not that I’m not attracted to you, I just think you’re better than that.

The only thing I'm afraid of is a life without you, Pigeon."

"Then you have nothing to be afraid of," I said. "We're forever.

Now that it's over, I wish I could have all the bad stuff back... just so I could have the good.