He paused at her addendum, taking a deep breath. His lungs felt heavy in his chest. This was for the best, he tried to tell himself. She had to differentiate herself from his Carrie. It wouldn't be smart for him to get too comfortable with her. It was hard seeing her... Almost as hard as it was not seeing her. Had it been a mistake to come?
He made his way inside, doing his best to walk without using the cane too much. The show of strength had come bizarrely important to him suddenly, the idea of invoking a sympathetic reaction because of the cane was unappealing. She was so young. He stood by the couch, turning to face her.
"I know that what I did was stupid and wrong," and about thirty other adjectives he could think of, though probably not as vulgar as the ones Carrie would use. "I've had time to realize that. But in all those years, I don't know if I realized how much that decision hurt you." At the time, he'd believed they were strong enough to get by without them. He believed they didn't need him. He'd been an idiot. "I don't have any right asking you to be a part of my life, Carrie, but I'm afraid if I beg my knees might give out." A small, fragile smile crossed his face. In truth, he was less worried about his knees and more worried Carrie would be disgusted by the display of weakness.