He stopped.
He looked at it.
And he didn’t move.
I’ll never forget that moment. Later, I would replay it over and over, trying to understand. Because his face didn’t light up. Not at first. He went completely still, the way an animal goes still when it hears something in the woods. All the blood drained out of his cheeks. His lips parted, and for a second he looked almost afraid.
“Ben?”
“That’s…” He swallowed. “Are you sure?”
“Two lines. Look. Two lines!”
He took the test from me. His hand was shaking so hard I thought he’d drop it.
“How,” he whispered.
I laughed. “What do you mean, how? The usual way, I’m guessing.”
And then something broke open in him. He made a sound, half sob and half laugh, and he grabbed me and lifted me right off my feet. He spun me around in the hallway, and I knocked a picture frame off the wall with my foot, and neither of us cared.
