Thirteen years of fear seemed to leave his face at once.
“Thank God.”
His voice shook.
“I’m so glad.”
Lily nodded.
“I think Mom wanted you to hear it from me.”
Then Carl looked at me.
For thirteen years, I had imagined what I would say if I ever saw him again.
Most of those imaginary conversations involved anger.
But when the moment arrived, I felt too many things at once for anger to dominate.
Carl said,
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I was wrong.”
“Yes.”
“You deserved the choice.”
“Yes.”
“I took it from you.”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“I told myself I was doing it because I loved you.”
I looked at him.
“You did love me.”
He looked surprised.
Then I added,
“And you were still wrong.”
Carl nodded.
“Both can be true.”
“Yes.”
We sat together in the garden for a long time.
Then Carl looked at Lily.
