Chapter 3

Ben crossed the stage while Michael’s seat remained empty beside me.

This time, I watched my son.

I watched him shake the principal’s hand, accept his diploma, and pause for the photograph. I saw the way he straightened his shoulders when the audience applauded.

A seat creaked beside me.

My father lowered himself into it, one hand braced on his cane. A support wrapped his left knee, and he was breathing harder than the short walk from the entrance should have caused.

“You made it,” I whispered.

“Of course.”

He held a bouquet of sunflowers across his lap.

After the ceremony, Dad gave them to Ben.

“I’m proud to be here,” he said.

Ben looked at Dad’s knee, then hugged him carefully.

We joined the families taking photographs outside. Ben stood between us, holding his diploma and the sunflowers. The camera flashed.

Only after the picture was taken did I hear Michael call his name.

He hurried across the parking lot with his tie hanging loose. Three blue balloons knocked against one another above his head. One said HAPPY BIRTHDAY.

“I made it,” he said, struggling to catch his breath.

Ben looked at him.

“It’s over.”

Michael’s eyes moved from the diploma to the flowers. “I know I missed the ceremony, but we can still take pictures.”

“We already did.”

“Then we’ll take another.” He turned toward the photographer. “One with all of us.”

Ben stepped back. “No.”

Michael frowned. “Tyler wouldn’t come out of his room. He was crying, and Amy couldn’t calm him down.”

“So you stayed,” I said.

“What was I supposed to do? Leave him like his father did?”

Ben removed the navy tie and folded it into the small box I had carried in my purse.

Michael watched him. “We’ll celebrate properly this weekend. I’ll reserve the private room at Emerson’s. You can invite anyone you want. And we’ll get you a better graduation gift.”

“You can retake a picture,” Ben said. “You can’t retake where you were when my name was called.”

“Ben, Tyler doesn’t have a father. Today was hard for him.”

“Then how many times do I have to lose my father before it’s fair to Tyler?”

For several seconds, nobody spoke.

Michael looked at me. “You’ve been filling his head with this.”

“No. These are his feelings. You just never stayed long enough to hear them.”

Ben handed me the tie box. “Can we go home?”

Dad left first to bring his car around. Michael drove separately while Ben and I returned in mine.

At the house, I carried two suitcases into the bedroom.

Michael followed me upstairs. “So you’re staying with your father for a few nights?”

I opened the locked drawer and removed our identification documents and passports.

“We’re staying there tonight.”

I packed my medication and enough work clothes for a week. Ben collected his laptop, university papers, and clothes from his room.

Michael moved between us. “This is ridiculous. You’re uprooting everything because I was late to one ceremony.”

Ben zipped his bag.

“I’m leaving too,” he said. “Mom isn’t making me.”

Michael stared at him. “This is your home.”

“It’s where my things are.”

I told Michael about the apartment application and the deposit.

“I’ll sign the lease and collect the keys tomorrow morning. The movers are coming at eleven.”

The confidence left his face for a moment.

“You arranged movers during his graduation?”

“I arranged an apartment after you missed it.”

“You can’t end a nineteen-year marriage in one afternoon.”

“This afternoon didn’t end it. It made me stop pretending it hadn’t already been ending.”

I closed my suitcase.

“I’ll contact a lawyer about a formal separation tomorrow.”

Michael shook his head. “You’re angry. Ben’s angry. Once both of you calm down, you’ll realize how extreme this is.”

Ben carried the bags downstairs without answering him.

At the front door, Dad’s car waited by the curb.

Michael picked up his phone. “I’m going back to Amy’s for two nights. When you’ve calmed down, we’ll talk.”

Even now, with our suitcases beside the door, leaving us was still the first solution he could imagine.

I removed my key from the ring and placed it in his palm.

“We won’t be staying here tonight,” I said.

“The movers will come tomorrow.”

Michael stared at the key in his palm. “You’re really leaving?”

“Yes.”

I opened the door.

“This time, we’re not waiting for you to come home.”

“You’re coming home after we’re already gone.”