When he came in, he was standing.
Can I sit down?
This time I smiled.
“Now you asked how you had to.
He sat down.
“I don’t invite you back to my house,” I said.
- I understand.
And there is no romantic relationship between us.
- I understand.
If you want to tell me about your mother, I’ll listen to you.
His eyes fill with tears.
I would like to.
We talked for almost two hours.
Not like an eighty-year-old woman and a man of twenty in love with each other.
But as two people whose lives had been linked to the secrets of the same family.
He told me about Linda.
I told him about Richard.
And for the first time, neither was trying to get anything from the other.
A few months later, Sarah asked me:
Mom, did you forgive us?
I thought before I answered.
I love you.
