I wanted her to understand that both things could be true.
You could care about someone and still say no.
You could forgive someone without returning to the same unhealthy arrangement.
And you could stand up for yourself without becoming cruel.
Two days later, my Honda was back in the driveway.
Greg had arranged for a mechanic he trusted to inspect it. The battery was dead, and the alternator needed repairing. Rachel and Greg quietly covered part of the cost, refusing to accept the money I tried to hand them.
I promised to repay them when I could.
They told me to stop worrying about it.
When I turned the key and heard the engine start, I actually laughed.
It was an old car with faded paint, a small dent near the rear bumper, and a dashboard that rattled whenever I drove over a pothole.
But it was my car.
