Chapter 6
I followed him.
I found Daniel outside on a bench, his head in his hands. The September evening had cooled around us, and the golden restaurant light spilled through the windows behind him.
I sat beside him and wrapped my arm around his shoulders.
He leaned into me and cried like he had not cried since he was a child.
“I’m so sorry, Mom,” he said. “For all the times I defended her. For making you feel like you were the problem.”
“You couldn’t have known. She was very convincing.”
“I almost married someone who wanted you gone.”
“But you didn’t. You’re here with me. That’s what matters.”
We sat there as the night settled over the Berkshires. Daniel in my arms, the way he used to be when the world felt too big and scary.
Eventually, his tears slowed. He straightened up, wiping his face.
“The wedding is tomorrow,” he said. “Everyone is here. I’ve lost thousands in deposits.”
“Money comes back,” I told him. “You don’t get your life back once you waste it on the wrong person.”
He hugged me tightly.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out.”
Three months later, Daniel moved back to Vermont.
He is healing. Taking his time. Learning to trust again. We have dinner twice a week, and sometimes he still gets this sad look in his eyes, but it is getting better.
As for Vanessa, last I heard, she was in New York dating a hedge fund manager.
I hope she never tells him what she thinks of his mother.
Me?
I am still here in my simple Vermont house, living my provincial life. I still garden in the spring, still bake apple pie when Daniel comes over, still keep that graduation photo on my refrigerator.
And those eight words that were supposed to be a countdown to my irrelevance became the truth that set my son free.
I think about them sometimes.
At least she’ll be dead before our first anniversary.
May you like
She was wrong.
I am not going anywhere.
