Chapter 8 - The Room
Vivienne and I walked upstairs after everyone left.
The blue room was at the far end of the hall.
Guest room.
Painted pale blue because the previous owners had been unimaginative.
Callie rarely used it.
Still, the idea that Simone had assigned our daughter there without speaking to us made the hallway feel invaded.
Vivienne stood in the doorway.
“I never told Simone Callie could move here.”
“I believe you.”
“I told her Iris could use a guest room if she stayed during surgery.”
“I believe you.”
“She must have assumed—”
“No.”
Vivienne looked at me.
“No what?”
“We are done finishing Simone’s sentences with the most generous possible explanation.”
She flinched.
I regretted tone.
Not content.
“I’m sorry.”
She leaned against the doorframe.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
“I thought you’d say no because Nathan was still in the picture.”
“Yes.”
“You would have.”
“Yes.”
She almost laughed despite herself.
“Thank you for honesty.”
“I would have said no to signing before talking to him. I might have said yes to helping during surgery.”
Vivienne nodded.
“I know that now.”
“Why didn’t you then?”
She looked at the blue walls.
“Because Simone came to me crying.”
I waited.
“She said if she died, Nathan would get Iris and all the years she spent protecting her would mean nothing.”
“Protecting her from what?”
“His drinking. Broken promises. Showing up late. Missing Christmas morning once.”
Real injuries to trust.
Not nothing.
“But he changed.”
“She doesn’t believe it.”
“You did?”
“I didn’t know him well enough.”
“So you let Simone’s fear become your evidence.”
Vivienne looked at me.
“Yes.”
No defense.
That helped.
Then she said:
“I also liked being the person she trusted.”
That answer surprised me.
“She has always been the polished one. The one with answers. When she came to me terrified, I felt useful.”
Human.
Dangerous.
Helping can flatter the helper.
“So you signed.”
“Yes.”
“And told yourself it wasn’t serious because it wasn’t active yet.”
“Yes.”
“Would you have told me before surgery?”
“I planned to.”
I stared.
She heard how familiar that sounded.
Later.
After.
When it becomes necessary.
Timing can become control even without malicious intent.
Vivienne took my hand.
“I’m sorry.”
I did not say everything was fine.
It was not.
But I held her hand.
May you like
Marriage repair begins more honestly when apology does not demand immediate absolution.
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