Daniel.”
“Can you talk to him?”
“No.”
“Carol.”
“For 31 years, I cleaned up uncomfortable things because I wanted this family intact. I’m not doing it anymore.”
He nodded.
Then he asked, “Do you hate me?”
I thought about it.
“No.”
He looked surprised.
“I hate what you did. But hating you every day would keep you too involved in my life.”
That was the closest thing to closure I gave him.
Daniel took longer.
He worked. Went to therapy. Found a small apartment.
Almost a year after the wedding,
