Chapter 16
Six months later, Winifred asked to see Theo.
I asked him.
“No.”
Simple.
I relayed the answer.
She became furious.
“He’s three.”
“Yes.”
“He doesn’t understand.”
“He understands not wanting to see you.”
“You’re letting a toddler punish me.”
“No.”
I kept my voice calm.
“He’s setting distance.”
“Because you poisoned him.”
I almost smiled.
“No.”
Then I remembered Sofia.
The boat.
The blanket.
The race car.
Nothing about this was funny.
“You keep believing every boundary is punishment.”
Winifred went silent.
That was true.
If she could not enter, someone was hurting her.
If Theo refused affection, he was disrespectful.
If Sofia restricted access, she was controlling.
She had never learned the difference between rejection and consequence.
“When can I see him?”
“When he wants.”
“And if he never does?”
“That is possible.”
Her face broke slightly.
Good.
Not because I wanted pain.
Because reality had finally reached her without anyone staging it.
Real loss.
Not manufactured.
Caused by her choices.
She whispered:
“I was trying to make him strong.”
I looked at her.
“I know.”
That surprised her.
Then I continued.
“And you were wrong.”
Silence.
No dramatic reconciliation.
No instant remorse.
Just a woman finally forced to sit with the possibility that everything she called strength might have been fear with better clothing.
Before she left, she handed me something.
Sofia’s old scarf.
“I kept it.”
I stared.
“Why?”
Winifred looked away.
“I don’t know.”
Maybe she did.
Maybe even she had attachments she could not destroy.
I took it.
Not forgiveness.
May you like
Not yet.
Just an object returning to the right home.
