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An Apology From Olin

Christopher

Unlike most mornings, I didn’t idly sit out on the patio sipping my coffee and assuming my son would be making his way downstairs. I was in the kitchen, checking the time and waiting to see if he would come down. I knew he was home. I had checked on him periodically throughout the night. I had been nervous as hell he would try to run away again.

When he came downstairs, I had his waffles buttered and waiting for him. He looked sheepish as he pulled up a seat at the bar. “How many times did you check to see if I was in bed?”

I grinned. “About five, maybe ten.”

He groaned. “Great. That’s going to be a thing now.”

I shrugged. “For a little while. You scared me.”

“I am sorry for that,” he said earnestly.

I nodded. “I know. I just wanted to see where your head is at.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’d be okay if you wanted to take today off. We could go fishing, shopping, whatever you want.”

He shook his head. “No. I need to go to school. I’m not going to make any friends if I don’t go. Besides
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