Stephen insisted everyone was being dramatic. He had never chosen a specific amount and said any contribution would depend on his finances.
“So you promised something you had not even planned,” I said.
The front door opened.
Dustin stood in the entryway.
“I told you to stay home,” I said.
“I couldn’t.”
He looked directly at his father.
“Were you really going to pay for college?”
Stephen took a slow breath.
“I was going to help.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I would have done what I could.”
“You told me I wouldn’t have to worry anymore,” Dustin said, his voice shaking. “You said if I helped save your marriage, you would take care of school.”
Stephen shifted uncomfortably.
“I may have said something like that.”
I watched the hope disappear from my son’s face.
“So you never meant all of it.”
“I meant that I would contribute.”
“You let me believe you meant everything.”
Stephen reached toward him, but Dustin stepped back.
“I could have found another solution,” he whispered.
“You did not need to do this,” I said.
“I thought this was the solution.”
Barbra covered her mouth as tears filled her eyes.
Stephen looked frustrated rather than ashamed.
“Ik snap niet waarom iedereen doet alsof ik een misdaad heb begaan.”
“Nee,” zei ik zacht. “Je hebt iets ergers gedaan. Je hebt je zoon geleerd dat zijn lichaam iets was dat hij kon ruilen voor jouw goedkeuring.”
Niemand sprak.
Barbra liep naar Dustin toe en bekeek de tatoeage.
“Het spijt me zo.”
“Het was niet jouw schuld,” zei hij.
“Elke keer dat je mijn gezicht ziet, zul je je herinneren wat er vandaag is gebeurd.”
Dustin keek naar zijn arm.
“Ik ga het bedekken.”
Stephen protesteerde dat de tatoeage nieuw en duur was.
“Het kan me niet schelen,” antwoordde Dustin. “Ik wil het niet meer zien.”
