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The toughest news
When Leo, his voice breaking, asked if his father was finally gone forever, Gwen took a deep breath before answering. “Andrew never left us. Three years ago, he was coming home from work when a truck ran a red light. He died before we got to the hospital.”
Gwen also gave us a school photo of Andrew and something that took my breath away: the pregnancy test I had given him eighteen years earlier. He had kept it all that time. When his mother fell ill, Andrew had retrieved the returned letters. He was planning to try again, to find us once more.
The return home
After telling my parents the truth outside the house, my father simply cleared his throat and said it was time to go home. On the way back, Leo fell asleep with his hand resting on the box full of letters. Stopped at a red light, I watched him sleep and finally understood something I had carried like a burden for almost two decades.
For eighteen years I thought I was the girl Andrew had run away from. I never was. He loved us from the first moment to the last, and although the truth came too late, thanks to my son’s courage I was able to recover the real story of our love and give Leo back the certainty of having had a father who truly loved him.