Just Dominic.
He looked at me uncertainly.
“Lauren.”
I nodded.
“Hello.”
“Mom said
you were coming.”
“Yes.”
He glanced toward the bench.
“Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful.”
His eyes filled.
“I wasn’t sure what she’d have wanted.”
“She would have loved the butterfly.”
He smiled sadly.
“She loved butterflies.”
We stood in silence.
Then Dominic asked, “How are you?”
I thought carefully.
“I’m learning.”
He nodded.
“Me too.”
I studied him.
He seemed calmer.
Not happy.
Not healed.
But different.
“I heard about the scholarship,” I said.
He looked surprised.
“Mom told you?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t want you to think I was trying to buy forgiveness.”
“I didn’t.”
He looked down.
“I know money can’t fix what happened.”
“No.”
“I know that now.”
We sat at opposite ends of the bench.
For several minutes, we watched the garden.
Then Dominic spoke.
“I’ve been thinking about the last time I saw Sophie.”
