He still wore his suit jacket.
The bright flower pinned to his lapel looked almost ridiculous considering the expression on his face.
Neither noticed me at first.
“You told me you understood the candle,” Ryan said softly.
Amelia stared down at it.
“No, Dad. You asked if I understood what it meant.”
Ryan frowned.
“That’s different.”
He fell silent.
Then he asked,
“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this way?”
Amelia continued staring at the candle.
“You never asked.”
Ryan looked hurt.
“I ask you things all the time.”
“You ask if school was good.”
Silence.
“You ask if I like Aunt Lina’s apartment.”
Another pause.
“You ask whether dinner tastes good.”
Ryan lowered his eyes.
Amelia’s voice became quieter.
“You never ask if I’m angry.”
I stopped several feet away.
For perhaps the first time, Ryan seemed to understand what our daughter was actually saying.
He took a breath.
“Are you angry with me?”
Amelia nodded.
Once.
Ryan stared at her for a long moment.
Then he slowly nodded too.
“Okay.”
That was it.
No excuse.
No lecture.
No telling her she would understand when she was older.
Just—
Okay.
Then Amelia noticed me.
“Mom!”
She dropped the candle onto the bench and ran straight toward me.
I crouched just before she threw herself into my arms.
“Mom, I ruined Dad’s wedding.”
“No, sweetheart.”
“I did.”
“You were upset.”
I pulled back so I could look into her face.
“Being upset is not the same thing as ruining something.”
Ryan stood a few feet away.
“Annie…”
I looked at him.
“Don’t.”
He stopped talking.
Amelia wiped her face with her sleeve.
Then she suddenly said,
“Everybody keeps saying there used to be seven people in our family.”
Ryan and I exchanged confused looks.
She started counting on her fingers.
“You. Dad. Me. And the other three kids.”
She paused.
“But there was supposed to be another one.”
Nobody spoke.
Amelia looked directly at Ryan.
