In June, Katherine came to visit.
We sat on the porch, drinking lemonade, watching Sophie play on a blanket in the grass.
“You look good,” Katherine said. “Better than I’ve seen you in a long time.”
“I feel good.” I paused. “That sounds wrong, doesn’t it? After everything?”
“No. It sounds like healing.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a while.
Then Katherine reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope.
“This came to my office yesterday,” she said. “From Richard.”
I stiffened.
“I don’t want—”
“I know. But I think you should read it. Just once. And then you can decide what to do with it.”
I took the envelope reluctantly.
Inside was a single sheet of paper, covered in Richard’s handwriting.
Amelia,
I know you’ll never forgive me. I don’t expect you to. I don’t even deserve to ask.
But I need you to know that I did love you. Maybe not the way I should have. Maybe not enough to stop me from making the worst decision of my life. But it was real.
I was drowning in debt long before I met you. Bad investments. Gambling. I thought marrying you would solve everything. And for a while, it did. I had everything I thought I wanted.
But it was never enough. And I convinced myself that if I just had control—if I just had the money—then I could fix everything.
I was wrong.
I destroyed the only good thing in my life because I was too broken to see what I had.
I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m just asking that you don’t let what I did poison the rest of your life. Don’t let me be the reason you stop trusting people.
You deserved better than me.
Sophie deserves better than me.
I’m sorry.
Richard
I read it twice.
Then I handed it back to Katherine.
“Burn it,” I said quietly.
“Are you sure?”
“He’s right. I deserved better. And I’m not going to waste another moment thinking about what he took from me.” I looked at Sophie, gurgling happily on her blanket. “I’m only thinking about what I have now.”
