CHAPTER 9: THE HOME
I moved back into Garrett's house.
It took a while to feel comfortable there again. Every room held memories of him. Every corner reminded me of what I had lost.
But over time, it started to feel like home.
Catherine and Mark started visiting. They apologized. They helped. They started treating me like family.
I didn't expect to forgive them overnight.
But I was willing to try.
One evening, I was sitting in the study, looking at the painting, when Catherine walked in.
"Eleanor, can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Did you really love my father?"
I looked at her.
"I loved your father since I was seventeen years old. I loved him when I was young and foolish. I loved him when I was old and wise. I loved him when he was alive. And I love him now that he's gone."
Catherine started to cry.
"I never understood," she said.
"I know."
"But I want to understand now."
I smiled.
"Then let's start over."
We sat down together, and I told her about her father.
About the boy who walked me home in the rain.
About the man who found me fifty-three years later.
About the husband who left me a diamond ring and a promise.
She listened, and when I finished, she hugged me.
May you like
"Thank you," she said. "For loving him."
"It was my pleasure."
