“Can we do nachos?” Tiffany’s face brightened.
We moved around my kitchen like we had done it a hundred times before.
“But you’re not mad at me?”
At dinner, Tiffany leaned into her side and asked, “Are you still my aunt?”
Lindsay didn’t even blink. “Forever, baby.”
That night, when Tiffany asked about Mike, I told her the only truth I could live with.
“He’s your godfather,” I said. “Nothing else. And that’s how it will stay.”
Because biology can explain a beginning. But trust decides what happens next.
I told her the only truth I could live with.
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