I looked at Emma's hand.
My son had been sitting beside my wife, asking her questions, receiving what he believed were answers, while I had been walking in and out of the room.
Then I remembered what he'd said earlier.
"So why are you scared to stay in the room with me?"
I turned toward him.
"Why did you say I'm scared?"
Publicidad
He gave me that same puzzled look.
"Because you are."
"Noah, I'm here every day."
"I know."
"Then what do you mean?"
He started counting on his fingers.
"You get coffee. You talk to Grandma outside. You take work calls. You ask the nurses stuff. You go get food. You say I should have alone time with Mom."
Each sentence landed harder than the last.
I opened my mouth to defend myself.
Every example had an explanation.
Publicidad
I needed coffee because I barely slept.
