"Your grandfather and I had a difficult marriage in the beginning. I was young and frightened. I told Eleanor I was thinking about leaving him."
"And?"
"She told him."
I stared.
"Why?"
"She thought she was helping. She told him I needed reassurance, that he should convince me to stay."
Grandma shook her head.
"He came home furious. Accused me of telling everyone our private business. For weeks, every argument became another fight about what I'd told Eleanor."
"Did you leave him?"
"No. We eventually worked through our problems. But I couldn't trust Eleanor anymore."
"Did she apologize?"
"She tried. I told her never to contact me again."
"And she didn't?"
"No."
"She believed you hated her."
Grandma sighed.
"For years, I did."
"Do you still?"
She looked surprised.
"Of course not."
"Then why didn't you tell her?"
Grandma stared at the photograph.
"Life happened. Children, work, your grandfather getting sick. Eventually I wasn't angry anymore. But after so many years, I didn't know how to reach out."
