“Later I realized he was also protecting our friendship from work. I was his client. He thought boundaries mattered.”
“That sounds less like him.”
“He was capable of occasional wisdom.”
I sat down.
“So the letter?”
Adrian removed another page from the box.
Not the original.
A photocopy.
He slid it toward me.
“There was more.”
I read.
Daniel had written the letter after Mia was born.
That was the first surprise.
The date was nearly seven years ago.
Adrian had remembered the timing incorrectly.
The letter began with jokes.
A complaint about hospital coffee.
A paragraph about fatherhood.
Then the tone changed.
**Julia thinks strength means being the person who never asks anyone to carry anything for her. I love that about her. I also worry about it.**
My vision blurred.
I continued.
**You’re the same, Kane, except you disguise it with expensive suits and an unreasonable number of meetings.**
