“And you believed her?”
“I believed that I was supposed to choose between you. She had trained me to think love was a test, and that whoever needed less was the stronger person.”
Elena’s breath left her slowly.
“Tonight, when she threw the ring, you said we were leaving. But if I had left without saying anything, would you have gone with me?”
“Yes.”
“Even without knowing why?”
He nodded.
“I would have gone.”
That answer did not erase the years of fear, but it gave them a place to begin.
Julian sat across from her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Not the kind of sorry that asks you to make me feel better. I’m sorry because I saw you being humiliated and still looked at my mother before I looked at you.”
Elena’s eyes filled.
“That was the worst part.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
He accepted the words without defending himself.
She looked toward the rain-streaked window.
“When she called our baby a bastard, I kept waiting for you to say something that would make the room safe again. You did say something. You said we were leaving. But I needed you to tell her she was wrong.”
“I was afraid.”
“I know.”
“I’m still afraid.”
Elena finally looked at him.
“Of her?”
“Of becoming her. Of discovering that every time I stay quiet, I’m choosing the same things she chose.”
Elena reached across the space between them.
He took her hand carefully, as though asking permission with his fingers.
She allowed him to hold it.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then a sharp pain crossed Elena’s face.
Julian rose immediately.
