She wiped her eyes.

“Yes.”

I appreciated the honesty.

But honesty didn’t automatically repair the damage.

“I wanted to help you,” I told her. “I was planning to give you clothes when I no longer needed them.”

“I know.”

“You made me regret offering.”

Tara began crying.

“You weren’t wrong for offering. I was wrong for taking advantage.”

When she left, she didn’t ask me to forgive her immediately.

That mattered.

A few days later, Nick called.

“I’ve done everything you asked,” he said.

“You’ve started doing it,” I corrected.

“The money is paid. You have the statements. I’m going to counseling. What else do you want?”

I leaned against the kitchen counter.

“I want you to stop treating this like a checklist you finish so you can come home.”

He became frustrated.

“My mom bought you more clothes than you lost.”

I closed my eyes.