Chapter 16
Priscilla eventually asked why I never married Desmond.
She was eight.
Old enough for a little more truth.
“He wanted our family to work in a way I didn’t agree with.”
“What way?”
“He thought you should live somewhere else for a while after we married.”
Her face changed.
“Without you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He thought it would help him feel like he belonged.”
She frowned.
“That wouldn’t make him belong.”
Exactly.
Children save us chapters.
Then she asked:
“Did he hate me?”
“No.”
Important.
“He cared about you.”
Confusing.
Necessary.
“Then why?”
“People can care about someone and still make selfish choices.”
She thought.
“That’s worse.”
Sometimes.
“Yes.”
Then:
“Did you love him?”
“Yes.”
Another hard truth.
Love had existed.
That did not mean marriage should have.
Priscilla leaned against me.
“Good you didn’t go honeymoon.”
I laughed.
“Very.”
Then she asked where I would have gone.
Italy.
She was offended.
“You went without me?”
“No.”
May you like
Good.
Apparently the real betrayal would have been pasta.
