On their first night unpacking, Maxine smiled.
“Dad would have hated these old tile floors,” she said, laughing.
Gretchen looked down at the worn mosaic tiles.
“He probably would have,” she agreed, smiling.
“I think that’s exactly why you like them,” Maxine teased.
They laughed together — awkward at first, like their bodies had forgotten how, and then it filled the whole apartment.
Slowly, their life rebuilt itself in small daily pieces.
Gretchen enrolled in the hospital management program she’d once put off because Joshua called it a waste of money. She started reading before bed again. She made her own decisions without wondering what mood he’d be in.
Maxine started therapy and kept her scheduled weekends with her father. Joshua had to learn to build a real relationship with his daughter without expensive gifts or empty promises.
One afternoon, Maxine came home from his place.
“Dad got a job at a smaller firm,” she said. “He really apologized to me.”
Gretchen waited for her to continue.
“I told him I still don’t know if I can fully trust him again,” Maxine added. “But I also told him I still love him a lot.”
“Both of those are honest,” Gretchen said, proud of her.
