She told him about the note, about the lamp, about the chair.
For a moment he said nothing.
Then he laughed softly.
“He remembered the chair.”
“He bought it.”
“I thought you bought it.”
“I let you think that.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted one thing in the house to belong completely to you.”
Michael looked at her.
“It did.”
“No,” Eleanor said. “It belonged to everyone who sat in it.”
He lowered his head.
“I wish I had understood that.”
“So do I.”
They sat quietly.
After a while, Michael reached for her hand.
His fingers were rougher than she remembered. He had begun working at a hardware store while applying for longer-term positions, and the change showed in his palms.
“I’m going to therapy,” he said.
“Good.”
“I hate that you’re not surprised.”
“I am not surprised. You needed it before.”
“I know.”
He looked toward the window.
“I also talked to Olivia.”
Eleanor waited.
“She wants to see Claire when Claire is ready. I told her that would be Claire’s decision.”
“That was right.”
“She asked whether you hated her.”
“What did you say?”
