There was a long silence.
Finally, he said:
“What do you want?”
That was always how he answered difficult questions.
Not what should happen.
Not what he wanted.
What do you want?
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t have to decide tonight.”
“What would you do?”
He exhaled.
“It isn’t my wedding.”
“Dad.”
“I mean it.”
She heard him sit down.
“If you want her there, invite her.”
“And you?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You always say that.”
He laughed softly.
“That’s because I usually am.”
Chloe knew better.
Still, she invited Elena.
Partly because some small piece of the six-year-old girl inside her still wanted to see whether her mother could walk through a door
and stay.
Elena replied immediately.
