“It doesn’t have to make sense, Stephen. It just has to be true.” She shifted slightly, turning to face me more fully. “You’re allowed to be angry at her for taking Grace. You’re allowed to grieve for the woman she was before everything broke her. You’re allowed to feel guilty that you weren’t there when she needed you. All of it. At the same time. None of it cancels out the rest.”
I stared down at my hands. Rough, scarred, capable of violence. The same hands that had held Grace when she was a baby. The same hands that had touched Christina with something close to reverence back when I thought I knew who she was.
“I don’t know if I ever really loved her,” I admitted, the words tasting like ash. “Not the way I should have. Not the way she deserved.”
Trudy didn’t flinch. “What makes you think that?”
“Because I didn’t see her.” I looked up, meeting Trudy’s eyes. “I saw what I wanted to see. A woman who needed protecting. A woman who’d give me a family. A woman who wouldn’t challenge me or push back or make me question the life I was living.” I shook my head. “I didn’t see the darkness she was carrying. Didn’t see how much she was sacrificing just to survive. I was too busy playing the hero to realize she didn’t need a hero. She needed a partner. Someone who’d stand beside her instead of in front of her.”
“And you think that means you didn’t love her?”
“I think it means I loved the idea of her more than I loved the reality of who she was.”
Trudy was quiet for a long moment, then she said, “Maybe. Or maybe you loved her the best way you knew how at the time. And maybe that wasn’t enough, but it was still real.”
I wanted to argue. Wanted to tell her she was wrong, that I’d failed Christina in every way that mattered. But the words wouldn’t come.
“You’re not the same man you were thirty years ago,” Trudy continued. “You’ve changed. Grown. Learned things about yourself and the world that you didn’t know back then. And maybe if you’d known then what you know now, things would have been different. But you can’t go back and fix it. All you can do is accept that you did the best you could with what you had.”
“She deserved better.”
“Maybe. But she also made her own choices. She chose to run. She chose to keep secrets. She chose to protect Grace the only way she knew how, even if it meant losing you in the process.” Trudy reached over, taking my hand in hers. “You don’t get to carry all the blame for how things turned out. She had agency too. She made decisions. Some of them were survival. Some of them were fear. But they were hers.”
I looked down at our joined hands. Trudy’s fingers were smaller than mine, softer, but there was strength in her grip. Strength I’d come to rely on more than I’d ever thought possible.
“I’m scared,” I admitted, the words barely above a whisper.
“Of what?”
“That I’ll do the same thing with you. That I’ll see what I want to see instead of who you really are. That I’ll fail you the way I failed her.”
Trudy squeezed my hand. “You won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I won’t let you.” Her voice was firm, no room for argument. “I’m not Christina, Stephen. I’m not going to hide from you or lie to protect you or make decisions for you because I think you can’t handle the truth. If something’s wrong, I’ll tell you. If I’m scared or angry or confused, you’ll know. I’m not going to martyr myself to keep you comfortable.”
I let out a rough laugh. “No. You’re definitely not.”
“Damn right.” She shifted closer, her shoulder pressing against mine. “And you’re not the same man you were back then either. You see me. Really see me. You push back when I’m being stubborn. You don’t let me hide behind my walls or my sarcasm or my fear. You make me face things I’d rather avoid. That’s not the behavior of a man who’s going to repeat the same mistakes.”
I wanted to believe her. Wanted to trust that I’d learned enough, changed enough, to do better this time.
“I still love her,” I said quietly. “Even after everything. Even knowing what I know now. Part of me will always love her.”
“I know,” Trudy said. “And that’s okay too.”
I looked at her. “It doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would it? She was the mother of your child. She was part of your life for years. She shaped who you are, for better or worse.” Trudy’s expression was calm, certain. “Loving her doesn’t mean you can’t love me. The heart’s not a finite resource, Stephen. You don’t run out of love just because you give some to more than one person.”
“You’re too good for me.”
“Probably.” She smiled, just a little. “But listen, I need you to understand something. I’ve been on my own for twenty years, Stephen. Since Terry died. Twenty years of making my own decisions, standing on my own two feet. I don’t need you to rescue me or complete me or fix what’s broken.”
She shifted to face me more directly, her eyes steady and unflinching.
“I’m choosing you. Not because I’m desperate or lonely or because I think you’re going to save me. I’m choosing you because you challenge me and you don’t let me hide. That’s a choice I’m making from a place of strength, not weakness.”
