Richard took her hand.
“I tried to convince her to stop waiting. But I couldn’t stop waiting myself.”
He looked at me.
“When we finally found evidence that you might be alive, I wanted to give Margaret one evening she could understand. I wanted the room to look familiar. I wanted the clothes, the rabbit, the shoes, and the song to help her recognize you.”
He paused.
“I was so afraid that she would look at you and see only a stranger. I thought that if I recreated enough details, perhaps something would return to her.”
I looked at the bedroom door.
“And you thought locking me in would help?”
“No,” he answered immediately. “That was a terrible decision. I was frightened and selfish. I convinced myself that if I controlled every detail, I could prevent another disappointment.”
He looked down at his hands.
“I had no right to make you feel trapped. I should have told you the truth before you arrived.”