“You wanted peace.”
“I wanted convenience.”
The words surprised even him.
But they were true.
“I didn’t want arguments. So when Vanessa complained, I asked you to change. You always did. And I never asked what it cost you.”
Eleanor’s lower lip trembled.
“I never wanted you to feel you had to choose.”
Nathan gripped her hand.
“You shouldn’t have had to explain that.”
Leah looked down.
She had suspected much of what her mother described, but she had never known the full extent.
“I should have done more,” she whispered.
Eleanor looked at her daughter.
“You called me every Sunday. You came over when you knew I was lonely. You did plenty.”
Leah shook her head.
“I knew something was wrong. I just kept hoping Nathan would see it.”
Nathan turned toward her.
“You tried to tell me.”
“Yes.”
“And I told you to stay out of my relationship.”
Leah nodded.
He lowered his head.
“I’m sorry.”
She reached across the table and squeezed his shoulder.
“I know.”
That evening, they ate grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.
No caterers.
No champagne.
No elegant place settings.
Just three people sitting around a kitchen table with the windows open.
