“I do. But I didn’t deserve to. I was horrible. I thought she would hate me.”
“She doesn’t,” Ryan said softly. “She wants to meet you. And I want to know my grandmother.”
I covered my face with my hands, sobbing.
“Can I meet her?”
“She’ll be home from work in a few hours,” Ryan said gently.
I looked at him through tears. “Can I hug you?”
“Of course, Grandma.”
I broke down as Ryan wrapped his arms around me. After fifty years of silence and regret, I allowed myself to believe I might not be entirely alone anymore.
