“I thought silence would protect you,” she said. “I thought you had moved on, and I did not want to reopen wounds. I told myself I was freeing you from an imperfect partner. In the end, I learned that love is not a report you pass or fail. It is a practice.”
We stood there with the old rug under our feet and years between us. Then she asked if I wanted to meet Daniel. I nodded before I had decided, as if my heart already knew the answer.
The First Quiet Visit
“He is the best gift I have ever received,” she said.
We stood in an ordinary miracle of lamplight and steady breathing, and I understood something I should have known all along. True love is not only what fate gives. It is also what we choose to give, even after a loss. It is a choice to show up. It is a promise we keep on ordinary days.
At the door that night, Althea thanked me for coming. The rain had lifted. The air smelled like wet earth and a fresh start.
“I have thought of you often,” she said. “When Daniel asked why he did not have a father, I told him his father lived in heaven. The honest truth is that heaven has always had your face.”
“If you want,” I said, “I can visit him sometimes.”
