That was why the excuses never made sense.
He wasn’t trying to hide another woman.
He was trying to hide his grief.
Mom sat down slowly.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“He never told me he had a daughter.”
Emma shook her head.
“The nurse said he almost never talks about her.”
Then Mom noticed a small photograph tucked inside the briefcase.
Mark was younger in the picture.
Beside him stood a smiling little girl in a red coat.
On the back, someone had written:
Dad, promise me you’ll keep making people smile.
Mom started crying.
The next Sunday, Mark arrived for dinner as usual.
At 7:50, he checked his watch.
At 7:55, he reached for his briefcase.
But this time, Mom stood up and put on her coat.
Mark looked confused.
“Where are you going?”
She took his hand.
“With you.”
His face changed instantly.
For a moment, he couldn’t speak.
Then his eyes filled with tears.
“You know?”
Mom nodded.
“And you don’t have to make excuses anymore.”
That night, Mark walked into the care center with Mom beside him.
Emma came too.
And for the first time in years, when Sunday visiting hours ended, Mark didn’t walk out alone.
