Please remember that.
And please tell Anna that I am sorry.
She deserved the truth a long time ago.
You both did.
Goodbye, David.
I wish I had been brave enough to tell you this while I was still alive.
I folded the letter.
I couldn’t breathe properly.
For thirty-six years, I had believed my marriage began naturally.
Now I knew it had begun with a betrayal.
But it had also become something much larger than the mistake that created it.
I looked at Anna.
“Do you hate her?”
Anna was silent for a long time.
Then she shook her head.
“I did.”
She wiped her cheek.
“For years, I did.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know.”
I understood.
There are some wounds that don’t disappear simply because someone apologizes.
But sometimes understanding the reason behind a wound changes the way you carry it.
I looked toward the window.
“I loved you.”
