“Then why?”
“Because forgiveness and reconciliation aren’t the same thing.”
He lowered his head.
I continued.
“I
hope someday we can remember Sophie without every conversation becoming an accusation. But I can’t rebuild our marriage.”
He stared at the table.
“What about Vanessa?”
I looked at him.
“What about her?”
“I ended our friendship.”
I remained silent.
“She called after you left. She said you were overreacting and needed time to calm down.”
My stomach tightened.
“And?”
“I told her never to contact me again.”
I looked away.
Three months earlier, I might have found that comforting.
Now it only made me sad.
“You should have established those boundaries when I first asked,” I said.
He nodded.
“I know.”
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Dominic asked, “Can I visit Sophie’s memorial someday?”
The question hurt in a different way.
Her remains were with me, but grief did not belong to only one parent.
