Logan sat across from me.
I asked him why he had never told me about his plans.
He shrugged.
"I don't know."
"Try."
He rubbed his palms together.
"College costs money. You already work all the time. I didn't want you to think I was asking you to pay for something we couldn't afford."
I reached across the table.
"Wanting an education isn't selfish."
"Maybe not. But pretending we have money we don't have is stupid."
He wasn't wrong.
Our financial situation had become increasingly difficult since my divorce.
I worked at the hospital because the pay was better than most jobs available to me, but the long shifts left me exhausted.
I had credit card balances, overdue medical bills, and a car that seemed to require repairs every other month.
I had told Logan that everything was under control.
He had believed the numbers instead.
"I can't promise we can afford every school you want," I said. "But I can promise we'll look at every possibility before giving up."
He watched me carefully.
"You mean that?"
"Yes."
"What if we can't pay?"
"Then we look for scholarships, financial aid, and affordable programs. We ask questions. We make a plan."
He looked down.
"I already missed the deadline."
"Then we'll find out whether there's another opportunity."
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he asked a question that broke my heart.
"Are you disappointed that I want to leave home?"
I stood up and moved to his side of the table.
"No, sweetheart. I'm proud that you want to build a future."
His eyes filled with tears.
"I thought you'd need me here."
"I need you to grow up into your own life. I don't need you to give it up for mine."
He covered his face.
I put my arms around him.
This time, he hugged me back immediately.
For the first time since his father left, we talked about the future without pretending that wanting something better was a betrayal.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: The Woman Who Called My Son a Hero
The Police Officer Was Holding My Three-Year-Old Son
Part 6 of 20
