That small, unexpected act of generosity felt like a slap to my conscience.
Slowly, Clara lifted her gray eyes back to me. Still uncertain—still cautious—but less defensive.
And something unsettling clicked into place:
This was more complicated than I’d anticipated.
Valentina was helping me—if only for Clara’s sake.
And I wasn’t prepared for that.
She stayed kneeling beside Clara, her hand still smoothing the child’s hair, while they both looked at me with completely different expectations—one guarded, one tense with protective worry.
For one of the rare times in my life, I had no control over what happened next.
Losing control was nearly unthinkable for me.
But here—under those gray eyes that mirrored mine—it felt inevitable.
I inhaled slowly and summoned something I didn’t know how to be.
Patient. Gentle.
Vulnerable.
I stepped forward and crouched to Clara’s level. Relief and anxiety mixed when I realized she didn’t flinch this time. She only watched me closely, taking in every movement.
“I’m sorry about that night,” I began carefully, forcing my voice into something softer. “I shouldn’t have yelled at your mom like that. You’re right to be cautious.”
Clara studied me with a seriousness that felt too big for someone so small. After a few seconds, she hugged the unicorn tighter and frowned.
“Why were you mad at my mommy?”
The question was direct, innocent, and it tied a knot in my throat instantly.
Behind her, Valentina stayed absolutely silent, but I could see the tension in her posture—waiting for my answer.
I swallowed, choosing each word with care.
“Sometimes grown-ups do things wrong,” I said slowly. “I did something wrong, Clara. I was angry… but not at your mom.” The truth tasted strange. “I was angry at myself.”
She held my gaze as if weighing the sincerity.
Then, finally, her expression softened a little.
“My mommy always says everybody makes mistakes sometimes,” she murmured, glancing at Valentina like she was checking. “But if you say sorry, then it can be okay.”
“Your mom is right,” I said, and something loosened in my chest as I saw the tension leave her face. “Will you forgive me for that night?”
She hesitated, squeezing the unicorn one last time—then nodded.
“I forgive you.”
Something inside me gave way.
A weight lifted, unexpected and sharp.
My eyes flicked to Valentina for one brief second, and I saw something there I didn’t expect.
