I could barely understand what the hell I was saying as I muttered, “Are you telling me to go? To go be with him across the fucking world and leave you?” I hiccupped. “How the hell could you tell me that? How could you tell me to not be with you and see you and…”
Those strong, safe arms—the strongest, safest arms I had ever known for the majority of my life—didn’t let me down. They cradled me. They loved me. They adored me right then, as my grandpa said, “I’m telling you to go live your life, Len. I’m telling you to go be happy. That’s what I’m telling you to do.” Those hands of his palmed my face and pulled me back just far enough away so he could look right into my eyes. “And who the hell says you’re leaving us behind? Jonah invited us to come along too. My bag has been packed for weeks.”