She looked different from the confident woman who had arrived weeks earlier.
Her hair was tied back, and she wore a simple cardigan and flat shoes. Her face appeared tired.
“Debra,” she said.
I remained near the porch.
“What do you need, Rachel?”
She glanced toward the house.
“Can we talk?”
“About what?”
She hesitated.
“I owe you an apology.”
I said nothing.
She looked down at her hands.
“I shouldn’t have come here and spoken to you the way I did.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Tyler told me things that made me believe the situation was already settled. He said you knew the marriage was over. He said the house was something you would eventually leave.”
I watched her carefully.
“Did you believe him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She looked up, startled by the question.
“I loved him.”
I considered that.
“Did you love him enough to ask whether he was telling you the truth?”
