Paul didn't have to do anything or be anywhere, so we sat on the couch and talked all day. The conversation drifted from music to books to music again, then the room went silent. After a few minutes, He gently asked about Jake. I didn't mind talking to him about the whole situation, but I couldn't imagine talking to anyone else about it.

"Did he do anything else to you?" He gazed at me with his big dark brown worried eyes again, with hope that I'd say no.

"Eh, no,"

"You're a terrible liar," he told me. "But I won't make you say anything you don't want to."

I stared at the boards running across the floor, following the grains in the wood as I tried to form a way to answer his question. I did desperately want to get it off my chest. I took a deep breath and fiddled with my thumbs. "When... When Heather was two, that was when he started getting addicted to all that. It was his old schoolmates getting him involved in it. I begged him to stop and eat dinner with his family..." I dug my thumbnails into my skin, trying not to break down again, but it would only work for so long. "He always said he'd be back but it was a lie. The times I found him, he'd be passed out on the sidewalk somewhere. Sometimes he'd be gone for days and the police would bring him home. I threatened to divorce if he kept it up, but he told me if I ever tried, he'd take Heather..." My thumb was bleeding. Paul laid his hand on my forearm. "I couldn't let him, knowing what he would do to her. Eventually, I did divorce him, but I had to stay there for poor little Heather..." I closed my eyes and held my breath. By the time I finally let it out, Paul was hugging me tightly, in tears himself. Neither of us said another word, we just sat there.

Believe it or not, that was the best birthday I'd had in a long time. It was wonderful, being able to talk to someone who wouldn't constantly interrupt, who would always listen.