I Took My Nephew From a Shelter After His Mother Abandoned Him—Fifteen Years Later, He Held Her Life in His Hands

who he meant.

“Sometimes,” I admitted. “Do you?”

“Less and less,” he said. “I used to be angry. Then I tried to forgive her. Now I mostly just feel… nothing. She’s part of my history, but she’s not part of my story. Not the important parts anyway.”

He put his arm around my shoulders. “You’re the important part.”

I leaned against him, this man who’d once continue reading …