Daniel pressed his lips together.

“You’re afraid she won’t take you back.”

Daniel nodded, not wanting to even acknowledge that fear.

His father shrugged. “Yeah, so maybe she won’t take you back. But maybe she will. How will you know if you don’t try? I mean, if you don’t act, I’m sure some other young man will.”

Acid filled Daniel’s stomach.

“She’s a good and kind person, Danny. You deserve a shot at happiness. Don’t let it slip away.”

Daniel lowered his voice. “I love her. But if I were her, I’d want nothing to do with me. Ever. And rightly so.”

His father grinned. “Well, then, I guess it’s a good thing she isn’t you.”

NAUSEA AND DREAD filled Daniel’s gut as the day drew near. He had no desire for food; trying to sleep was a joke. He avoided TV, radio and all social media so he didn’t have to hear the recap on the news. It was the same every year. In the past, he had filled the approaching days with extra shifts, trying to distract himself from the impending doom of the actual day his daughter had died.

It never mattered how many shifts he worked; his body knew what his mind tried to ignore. He always woke on that day with a hole in his gut, his heart weighed down. He never actually took a shift on the actual day, preferring instead to be alone in his anger and grief and curse the world yet again for continuing on without his daughter. The first couple of years, when he and Sheila were still married, she would cry and he would drink while he held her.

After the divorce, he never contacted Sheila on this day, and she never contacted him. Not that they were ever in constant contact, but on that day, he could feel the connection of their non-contact.

This year was no different. Except that it was.

The familiar hollowness filled his belly as he approached the house Sara used to live in. Interesting. He’d been here a dozen times in the past two months to see Aaron, and that dread had been slowly fading away.

It was back today. Daniel had no idea what he was doing, except that, for the first time, he hadn’t wanted to be alone on this day.

He knocked.

Sheila answered, her eyes red rimmed and swollen. “I thought you might come by this year.”

“I’m sorry, Sheila. I can go if—”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come in.” She stepped back to allow him in. “Jim’s just getting dinner started. You’re welcome to stay.”

He stepped in. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.” His stomach rumbled in response to the aroma of onion and garlic sautéing. He shuffled his feet, unsure of why he was here.