“That’s not an excuse.”
“No, it isn’t.”
She waited.
Then she continued gently.
“I didn’t need you to become rich for me, Noah. I needed you to remember that I was still here.”
He nodded.
“I understand.”
Margaret studied him.
“Understanding is easy when you’re sitting across from me.”
She reached for her tea.
“Remembering it on a Wednesday afternoon when your work is difficult—that’s something else.”
Noah looked at her.
He had expected forgiveness.
Instead, she was offering him something more difficult.
A chance to earn back trust.
“I’ll come home next week,” he said.
Margaret smiled faintly.
“I’d like that.”
“And the week after.”
“Let’s begin with next week.”
Noah nodded.
For the first time, he understood why she had chosen those words.
Love could not repair seventeen years in one weekend.
It had to become something she could depend on.
Meanwhile, Claire’s life was unraveling.
The recordings from the wedding had spread among guests and eventually reached a much wider audience.
The footage showed the elderly woman approaching quietly with a cloth bag.
It showed Claire’s deliberate decision to pick up the garden hose.
And it showed Margaret being drenched while bystanders watched.
There was no misunderstanding to explain away.
