We were all in the living room, shoes kicked off, Lily coloring on the coffee table while Claire and Mom talked quietly. Lily suddenly looked up, eyes bright.
“Can we all go to the lake today?”
I opened my mouth to answer, and stopped.
All.
I looked at Claire. She looked back at me, stunned and a little breathless.
“The lake?” I repeated.
Lily nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. Like a family day.”
The word family sat heavy and warm between us.
Claire’s eyes shone.
“Okay,” I heard myself say. “We can do that.”
Later, after Lily had run off to find her swimsuit, Claire and I stood alone in the kitchen. Neither of us spoke for a long moment.
“She didn’t ask,” Claire said quietly. “She assumed.”
I nodded. “She’s good at that.”
Claire smiled, then hesitated. “Does that scare you?”
I considered the question honestly. “It used to.”
It didn’t now.
Not really.
What scared me was how right it felt.
The lake day passed in sun-drenched ease. Lily splashed and laughed. Claire rolled up her jeans and waded in, shrieking when Lily splashed her on purpose. I sat on the dock watching them, my heart painfully full.
This wasn’t something we’d planned.
That night, I sat alone in my therapist’s office for the final time.
Dr. Nora Alvarez watched me carefully from across the room, hands folded loosely in her lap.
“You look different,” she said.
I exhaled. “I feel different.”
“Why is that,” she said.
I leaned back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. “I used to think forgiveness was something other people gave you,” I admitted. “Something you earned if you suffered enough.”
“And now?”
“Now I think it’s something you have to earn yourself,” I said slowly. “Or you stay trapped forever.”
Dr. Alvarez nodded. “And have you?”
I swallowed. “I’m trying.”
