Chapter 9
Brielle asked to apologize to the boys.
I said no.
Not yet.
She looked devastated.
“I’ve been in their lives for two years.”
“Yes.”
“They love me.”
“Maybe.”
She flinched.
Good.
I would not tell her they hated her to punish her.
I would not tell her they loved her to comfort her.
Their feelings belonged to them.
She asked:
“What happens to us?”
The engagement was over.
That part required no debate.
She removed the ring herself days earlier.
I returned it to her.
Not as kindness.
It was hers.
She cried.
“I do love you.”
“I know.”
“And them.”
I looked at her.
“Maybe you loved the family you thought you could create.”
That hurt.
It also seemed true.
Love that requires people to become different versions of themselves is partly love for an arrangement.
She sat quietly.
Then:
“Can I write them?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll give it?”
“If they want it.”
Fair.
She wrote two letters.
One to Caleb.
One to Micah.
Specific apologies.
No “but.”
She admitted lying.
Admitted using the blindfold.
Admitted making them distrust each other.
Good.
I stored both.
Neither boy wanted to hear them.
May you like
Not then.
Consequences do not become cruel because the guilty person is ready before the harmed person is.
