Chapter 16

Rosamund and I became close again.
Slowly.
No ring.
No announcement.
We discovered we could argue better without an engagement hanging above us like a deadline.
One evening she asked:
“Would you ever marry me now?”
I thought.
“Maybe.”
She laughed.
“That used to terrify me.”
“And now?”
“It sounds honest.”
Good.
Months later, I asked her to attend a staff dinner.
Not as test.
Never again.
She sat beside Linnea by accident.
Or perhaps Linnea arranged it.
Hard to know.
They spoke normally.
Weather.
Food.
Someone’s terrible floral arrangement.
No apology.
No history.
Ordinary conversation.
Sometimes that is the last stage of healing.
May you like
Not forgetting.
No longer needing every interaction to carry the wound.