Chapter 14
Diane and Evan slowly developed a relationship again.
Never the old one.
Better because it required consent.
Visits happened at parks.
Then Emily’s house.
Eventually Diane’s garden.
Meals came much later.
The first time Evan ate at her table again, he was seven.
Diane served roast chicken.
I almost laughed at the universe’s lack of subtlety.
She placed the platter in the center.
Then sat.
No serving him.
No portion comments.
Evan took one thigh.
Then another.
Diane’s face moved.
Tiny.
Old instinct.
I saw it.
She caught herself.
Said nothing.
That was change.
Not transformation into saint.
A caught sentence.
A swallowed correction.
A child taking seconds without the room reacting.
Later, Diane whispered to me:
“That was harder than it should have been.”
“Yes.”
She smiled painfully.
May you like
“I know.”
Good.
