Page 88 of Solomon’s Temple

My wedding was happening, my life moving forward, and I wasn’t willing to drag the past into it.

“I love you,” I said. She looked at me. “But I’m tired.”

Her lips trembled.

“I’m tired of having to forgive you for the same thing over and over again.”

“I understand.”

“No, Ma. Listen to me. This is the last time.”

She froze.

“I’ll forgive you. I’m not holding this against you. I’m not going to stand at that altar carrying anger toward my mother.” I turned to face her. “But if you ever disrespect Temple again . . . if you ever try to interfere with my marriage, undermine her, judge her, or make her feel like she has to earn your acceptance . . .” I paused. “You won’t be part of the next phase of my life.”

She stared at me. “Solomon . . .”

“I’m serious.” My voice cracked slightly, but I didn’t back down. “That means when Temple and I have children, you won’t know them.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks.

“You won’t see your future grandchildren.”

She covered her mouth.

“And I’m not saying that to hurt you. I’m saying it because I need you to understand how serious I am about protecting my marriage.”

She nodded slowly. “I understand.”

“I need you to respect my wife.”

“I will. I promise.”

“I also need you to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I do.”

“And I need you to not treat Temple like she’s the enemy.”

My mother wiped her cheek. “She’s not the enemy.”

“No?”

She shook her head. “She’s your wife. I was the enemy, but I don’t want to be anymore.”

I studied her face. She looked different. Maybe it was the tears or the realization that her son wasn’t the little boy she could control anymore. Maybe it was finally understanding that loving me meant letting me live my own life.

“I promise you,” she whispered. “I’ll never do it again.”

I nodded. “Then we’re good.”

She stepped toward me. For a second, neither of us moved, then she wrapped her arms around me. I stood there stiffly at first. Years of disappointment didn’t disappear because of one apology, but eventually, I wrapped my arms around her too.

She hugged me tightly. “I’m proud of you,” she whispered against my chest.

I closed my eyes. “It’s about time you said that.”

She pulled back and looked up at me, a hint of a smile on her face. “I’m proud of the man you’ve become.” She kissed my cheek, then a full smile broke through her tears. “And your father is proud too.”