“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Dad. I’m already worried.”

This time he met my eyes and I saw genuine concern. “I’m sorry, Fin. ’Course you are. I didn’t mean . . .” Then he looked back down at his bowl of soup, but I noticed he didn’t eat any. “Your mom and I . . . We’re . . .” He sighed.

“Are you going to get a divorce?”

He stiffened at the word then shook his head. “No, Fin. No one’s said that.”

Yet? Was there a “yet” at the end of that sentence?

“Do you still love each other?”

That was my big question. The most important one. Nothing else really mattered, did it?

Dad set his spoon down on a paper napkin and folded his arms on the countertop. He stared forward.

“I fell in love with your mom when I was around your age. And I’ve loved her every day since. But that doesn’t mean she’s obligated to love me back.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

His head tipped back and forth. “Sometimes, when you truly love someone, you gotta let them go.”

“Like Frozen?”

That earned a small laugh. “You really did watch that movie too often.”

But I was serious. “Dad.”

“Your mom, when she was young, she was a force of nature.” He gazed off again and I knew he was remembering. “When she was in high school plays, she was always the star. All eyes were on her. You couldn’t help it. I used to volunteer to paint sets just so I could be near her in rehearsals.”

I smiled. “Like a sweet stalker.”

“I’d like to think of it more as a benign admirer.”

“Guess it depends on how it’s received.”

“I suppose it does.”

“So you painted sets and admired her from afar.”

“Until one day, Dana’s mom’s car didn’t work, so your nonna couldn’t pick her up from rehearsals . . .”

I knew this story. “And you swooped in with your Jeep to offer to drive her home and used your time together to woo her.”

“By inviting her over to listen to The White Stripes’ Elephant.”

“Super nerdy, Dad.”

He grinned a crooked grin. “Hey, you play the leverage you’ve got. First kiss we ever had was to ‘You’ve Got Her in Your Pocket.’ ” Then his smile turned wistful. “Seems kinda appropriate now.” I made a mental note to look up those lyrics. “She and I have had some really good times together.” He smiled at me. “Present company definitely included. But the simple truth is, Fin, we didn’t choose each other to be our forevers. Fate took care of that.”

I dipped a fry in the smear of ketchup at the edge of my plate. “If you hadn’t gotten pregnant in high school . . . ?”

“We’ll never really know. Who’s to say if we’d be each other’s happily ever after?”