Surely he'd talk by three. When three came and went, it was surely four. It was a never ending cycle of "everything will be different next year."
I'm not writing this to simply tell the story of seeing the world through Olivia's eyes, but also about accidentally making her see the world through mine.
Chris's death devastated me. Even now as I write this 13 years later, I have a hard time expressing my feelings about it.