Chapter 13
Claire did not forgive me quickly.
Good.
Fast forgiveness is often pressure wearing a softer face.
She stayed at her apartment.
Ethan stayed with her.
I visited when invited.
Not whenever I wanted.
That was new.
One evening, Claire handed me the USB.
“I don’t want this.”
I looked at it.
“Keep it?”
“No.”
“Destroy it?”
She thought.
Then nodded.
I snapped it in half.
Simple.
No archive.
No relic.
Ethan saw.
His eyes widened.
“You broke it.”
“Yes.”
“But it helped.”
“It did.”
“Then why?”
I looked at Claire.
She understood.
“Because we don’t need it anymore.”
Ethan considered that.
Then went back to his toy cars.
Good.
Evidence should end when its work ends.
Not become a family shrine.
Claire sat across from me.
“Do you know what hurt most?”
I waited.
“Not Vivian.”
That surprised me.
“You.”
Fair.
“I tried to tell you she scared me.”
“I know.”
“You told me weddings make everyone emotional.”
I remembered.
Badly.
Shamefully.
“I did.”
“You made me feel childish.”
“I know.”
She looked at me.
“Stop saying you know.”
Fair again.
I nodded.
She continued.
“I want you to understand.”
So I listened.
No defense.
No strategy.
No promise to fix it before she finished.
That was harder than any confrontation I had handled that week.
Also more useful.
By the end, she did not forgive me.
But she said:
May you like
“You heard me this time.”
That was the first thing I had earned.
