“But why did you never tell me the truth?”
“Because we were afraid you would think your real father had abandoned you. And then the years went by, and confessing became harder and harder.”
I ended the call.
Robert was still standing a few steps away.
“Why did you bring me here today?” I asked.
He approached but didn’t try to hug me.
“Because today is David’s birthday. He would have turned sixty today.”
My father sat down beside me.
“For a long time, I thought that staying silent was the only way to protect you. But I realized I was taking away your right to know your own story.”
“Then why didn’t you tell Mom that you were going to reveal everything today?”
“I did. But we argued. She was afraid that after learning the truth, you would no longer consider me your father.”
Suddenly, I remembered the photograph.
