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“I don't want to.”
I wait.
Eventually he squirms down.
He stands in front of Blaire, staring at his bare feet. “Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“I'm sorry I throwed my truck.”
“Threw.”
“I'm sorry I threw my truck.”
“Thank you.”
“And I didn't want to hurt you.”
“I know.”
“I was mad.”
“You can be mad.”
“I can't throw.”
Blaire immediately crouches. “Come here.”
Theo launches himself at her.
She wraps him up, pressing kisses into his hair while he clings to her neck.
“I always love you,” she murmurs. “Even when I'm mad. Even when you're in trouble. There is nothing you could ever do that would make me stop loving you.”
He sniffles against her. “Forever?”
“Forever.”
“Okay,” I say, crouching beside them. “Now you still have to clean up the blocks.”
His face falls. “But I said sorry!”
“Sorry doesn't magically clean your room.”
His eyes immediately fill again.
I point at him. “Don't even.”
His mouth closes.
“I'll help you. But you're doing most of it.”
“Daddy helps?”
“Yep.”
He considers.
