“I did resent you.”
She flinched.
“But not all the distance was ours.”
That mattered.
We had hurt each other.
Victor had not created everything.
But he had widened every crack because division made him central.
If Maren and I communicated through him, he controlled the interpretation.
If we were close, we could compare notes.
That possibility had apparently made
him uncomfortable.
“I want to fix it,” Maren said.
“We can’t fix thirty years today.”
“I know.”
“But we can stop letting someone else narrate the relationship.”
She nodded.
That was a beginning.
Later that afternoon, Julian and I walked through Larkmere Botanical Grounds because neither of us wanted another conversation inside the apartment.
He had been quiet all morning.
Finally I asked:
“What aren’t you telling me?”
He smiled faintly.
“You know me too well.”
“What?”
“I got an offer.”
My stomach tightened.
“Where?”
“Westmere.”
A fictional coastal city almost a thousand miles away.
“What kind of offer?”
“Partnership track.”
“Better litigation resources.”
“A pro bono division I’ve wanted to build for years.”
I stopped walking.
“When did this happen?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“No.”
That hurt.
Then the irony hit.
I laughed bitterly.
“We’re very good at protecting each other with secrets.”
“Yes.”
“Were you
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