Chapter 13
Coralie returned after eighteen months.
Not to me.
To Finnian.
Indirectly.
She asked Adela whether he would accept an apology.
Adela asked him.
He said:
“Does she have microphone?”
No.
“Okay.”
We met in a small garden room.
No crowd.
No amplification.
Coralie looked nervous.
Good.
Finnian sat beside Adela.
I stood near the window because he asked me to.
Coralie began.
“I’m sorry I made fun of the way you speak.”
Finnian watched her.
“I’m sorry I used the microphone to make people laugh.”
He looked down.
“And I’m sorry I called you a liar when you told the truth.”
Specific.
Good.
Finnian asked:
“Why?”
Coralie swallowed.
“Because I was scared you would tell Truman something I wanted hidden.”
He frowned.
“So you make me scared?”
“Yes.”
“That’s cheating.”
I almost smiled.
“Yes.”
Coralie’s eyes filled.
Finnian continued:
“Did Mom embarrassed?”
There it was.
The cruelest line from that night.
Coralie looked at Adela.
Then back at Finnian.
“No.”
Finnian stared.
“You lied?”
“Yes.”
He leaned against his mother.
Adela kissed his hair.
Coralie whispered:
“Your mother was trying to protect you.”
Finnian nodded.
Apparently enough.
Then:
“You still kiss that man?”
I looked at the ceiling.
Coralie almost laughed through tears.
“No.”
“Okay.”
Done.
No forgiveness speech.
No hug.
Finnian asked whether he could go outside.
He did.
Coralie sat quietly afterward.
“I expected worse.”
Adela answered before me.
“He’s six.”
Simple.
Adults often imagine themselves occupying far more space in children’s minds than they actually do once safety returns.
Coralie left.
No invitation back into my life.
Her apology belonged to Finnian.
May you like
Not to our engagement.
Those were separate doors.
