On the drive home, Alice fell asleep in her car seat.
Milo talked the whole way about a play he’d made in the second half.
Ethan listened like it was the most important story in the world.
I realized then that my lesson for Cecilia had never really been about birthday presents.
It wasn’t about forcing her to call Milo her grandson either.
You can’t order somebody to love a child.
What I could do was refuse to let her definition of family become my son’s definition of himself.
For three years, I had thought treating my children equally meant never dividing them myself.
I learned that wasn’t enough.
Sometimes you have to stop other people from dividing them too.
And Milo never should have had to worry that Ethan might be forced to choose him again.
That choice had been made years earlier.
Ethan had two children.
I had two children.
