“What do you want me to do?”
Her gaze shifted nervously toward the house.
“Simone…”
“No more speeches about building your life alone. No more pretending I never existed. You tell the truth to everyone you lied to.”
“And then?”
“Then you leave the next step to me.”
I walked away before she could ask me to forgive her again.
Back at Dad’s apartment, I discovered one final envelope beneath the grocery bag.
It was addressed to Mom but had never been mailed.
Dad had written it shortly before receiving his diagnosis.
“Simone has grown into a strong woman.
She is kinder than either of us deserved.
I am going to tell her everything.
She may be angry with me, but she deserves the truth more than I deserve her forgiveness.”
I remained at the kitchen table until darkness filled the room.
Then I looked toward his empty chair.
