“That wasn’t your letter to take.”
“No.
It wasn’t.”
“We lost that pregnancy, Diane.”
“I know.”
“And for two years I thought it was something I did.
Something wrong with me.” My voice was steady.
I was surprised by how steady it was.
“I went to three different doctors.
I blamed myself every single day.”
Diane’s chin lifted slightly.
Her eyes were dry.
“I made a mistake,” she said.
“You made a choice,” I said.
“There’s a difference.”
Claire stepped forward then.
She was quiet, composed — but her eyes were fixed on Diane with an expression I recognized.
It was the look of someone who had been waiting a long time to be in this room.
“She told me,” Claire said to me.
“Three weeks ago.
When she found out Nathan had filed for divorce, she called me.
She said she needed to fix something before it was too late.”
“Why did she tell you?”
“Because I’m the one who found the letter.” Claire reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope — old, slightly creased.
“It was in a box of Nathan’s things she’d been storing.
She didn’t know I’d seen it.”
She held it out to me.
I didn’t take it right away.
