Chapter 9 - Forgiveness Isn't a Second Wedding
Before we flew home, Adrian asked to talk to me alone one more time.
He said he'd go back to Connecticut, get a lawyer, fix his legal status, cooperate with any investigation into the debts he'd left behind, and start counseling before he asked for any kind of regular time with Owen.
I told him none of that was a favor to me. It was just the bare minimum of being a parent.
Then he asked the question I'd seen coming since the pool deck.
"Is there any chance — someday — that you and I could try again?"
I looked at him for a long time.
There used to be a version of me who would have given almost anything just to hear that he was alive.
But that woman had spent three years rebuilding herself from scratch. She'd learned to run a house alone. She'd learned to raise Owen without standing around waiting for somebody else to become reliable. She'd learned that being lonely hurt, but not knowing was worse.
"I hope you turn into the father Owen deserves," I said. "I mean that."
Something lifted in his face.
"But I am never going to be your wife again."
His eyes went down.
"Do you hate me?"
I actually thought about it. And I was surprised by the answer.
"No."
He looked up too fast. "Then maybe there's still something there."
I shook my head. "That's not what forgiveness is."
He went quiet.
May you like
"Forgiving you means I'm not going to spend the rest of my life hauling around anger for a decision I didn't make. It does not mean you get your old spot back in my life just because you finally miss it."
He nodded slowly. This time he didn't argue.
