“And I can’t pretend the things you did don’t matter just because you’re worried now.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“Your father’s letter, the fund, Olivia’s choices, your statement to the board—none of that changes what happened at the auction.”
“I know.”
“You stood beside me, knowing how much I wanted the necklace, and gave it to her.”
“Yes.”
“You watched everyone applaud.”
“Yes.”
“And when I asked about the gifts, you made me feel foolish for noticing.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“Yes.”
I waited, but he offered no defense.
That was what I had once wanted from him: not a perfect explanation, only the willingness to hear me.
“I can let you come to the hospital as the baby’s father,” I said at last. “But I can’t promise you anything beyond that.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me as if I’ve done something for you.”
