CHAPTER 8: THE APOLOGY
Mark was harder to reach.
He refused to see me. He refused to talk to me. He refused to acknowledge that I existed.
But I didn't give up.
I went to his house every day for a week. I knocked on his door. I left messages. I begged him to read his father's letter.
Finally, on the seventh day, he agreed to see me.
He opened the door, his face stony.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to read this."
I handed him the letter.
He took it, his jaw tight.
"I don't want anything from you," he said.
"Just read it. That's all I'm asking."
He opened the envelope and started reading.
As he read, his face changed. The anger faded. The resentment disappeared. And in its place was something I had never seen on his face before.
Sorrow.
"Where did you get this?" he asked.
"Your father's attorney. He wanted me to give it to you."
Mark read the letter twice.
Then he looked at me.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I was wrong about you."
"I know."
"I thought you were after his money. I thought you didn't love him."
"I did love him. I loved him for fifty-three years."
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
He hugged me.
May you like
It was awkward and uncomfortable, but it was real.
And it was the beginning of something new.
