Chapter 13
I eventually visited California.
Julian took me to his workshop.
Wood everywhere.
Dust.
Bad coffee.
He showed me a cabinet he built for his daughter.
Then asked:
“Do you still run Ashcroft like Dad?”
Hard question.
“Less every year.”
He nodded.
Good.
Then:
“Did he ever apologize?”
I handed him the copy of the letter.
He read.
Long silence.
“No.”
Correct.
Regret.
Not apology.
Important.
Julian folded it.
“Still counts for something.”
His choice.
Not mine.
Then he asked whether I wanted to talk about Vivienne.
I said only if he did.
He did not.
Good.
May you like
Dead relationships do not need reopening for audience satisfaction.
We drank bad coffee instead.
