Daniel nodded slowly.
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t. Because you’re still thinking about your father, your past, and what you lost. Have you thought about what you took from me?”
He looked down.
“You took away my ability to make an informed decision about the man I was going to marry. And when you had the chance to tell me the truth, you chose to keep lying.”
He began to cry.
I had seen Daniel cry only once before, when he told me about his father’s death.
Back then, I had held him and promised that he would never have to face his pain alone.
Now I could barely look at him.
“I am sorry,” he whispered.
I believed that he was sorry.
But being sorry and being trustworthy were two entirely different things.
I turned to my mother.
“And you?”
She pressed a hand over her mouth.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me.”
