Jonathan stepped out of his father's lounge, his hand still holding the smartwatch he had just used to talk to Marioa, the casing still faintly warm.He replayed the call in his head. She said she missed him very much, yet the exhaustion and distance in her voice had been impossible to hide. He furrowed his eyebrows.He walked over to his father and, very carefully, asked in a quiet voice, "Dad, has Mom... Has she still not really forgiven us?"Richard met his son's eyes, full of worry and unease. His heart clenched hard as he did not want Jonathan to hear the even harsher truth that was coming.He reached out and, with a gentleness he had never shown before, ruffled his son's hair. His voice dropped as low and calm as he could make it. "Jonny, go out and play for a while. Let Trent take you to buy some ice cream. I... I have a few important things to discuss with the doctor."Jonathan did not understand, but he could feel the weight in his father's tone. He nodded without askin
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