My heart sank.
“Missing the kids?”
He shook his head.
“Missing being needed.”
I sat beside him.
“Greg, missing that part of your life doesn’t mean you want Michael and Emma to become children again.”
He nodded slowly.
“Do you?”
His head snapped toward me.
“God, no. Michael once put a Lego in the toaster.”
I burst out laughing.
Then Greg smiled faintly.
“I just miss being the person somebody called when the dark felt too scary.”
That silenced me.
I realized how often I’d responded to his sadness with logic.
