“She’s waiting.”
I ran—truly ran—for the first time in years. When my daughter stepped out, her eyes filled with the same mixture of fear, hope, and longing I felt. I wrapped my arms around her and held her as if I could reclaim all the years we’d lost.
“Thank you for letting me back in,” I whispered. “And thank you for raising such a kind-hearted young man. He’s the greatest gift you could have given this world.”
She hugged me tighter.
“Mom,” she said softly, “it’s never too late for us.”
