Chương 11
“I want to undo yesterday.”
“You can’t.”
“I know.”
“What do you want that can happen?”
Serena looked toward the unopened gifts.
“I want us not to decide our entire future because of the worst thing I’ve done.”
“What would you decide it on?”
“Five years.”
“The last six months are part of those five years.”
“Yes.”
“So is yesterday.”
“Yes.”
He waited.
Serena took a sip of coffee. “I called a therapist this morning.”
“For yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I frightened Anna. Because I frightened you. Because last night I kept thinking that if she had fallen differently, she could have hit the edge of the piano. And part of me still wanted to explain that she had ignored me.”
Daniel’s expression remained guarded.
“That doesn’t earn anything,” Serena added. “I know making an appointment is not proof that I’ve changed.”
“No.”
“I’m saying I understand this isn’t about wedding stress.”
“Do you?”
“I think so.”
“That sounds uncertain.”
“It is uncertain. Yesterday I was sure I was a person who would never do something like that.”
Daniel looked at the rings on her hand.
Serena noticed.
She removed the wedding band they had privately exchanged and placed it beside her phone. Her engagement ring remained.
“I’m not returning anything yet,” she said. “I just can’t wear that while we’re talking.”
“Okay.”
She touched the edge of the cup.
“I resented Anna before yesterday.”
“I know.”
“She knew it.”
“She suspected.”
“I told myself she was manipulating you.”
“Was she?”
“Sometimes.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed.
Serena continued. “Not maliciously. But she would mention your mother when she wanted you to agree. She knew you would say yes.”
“Give me an example.”
“The house.”
Anna had resisted selling their mother’s small home in the suburbs. Daniel had agreed to delay for a year, then paid half the property taxes when Anna’s freelance income fell short.
“She wasn’t ready,” he said.
“That’s not the question.”
He looked away.
Serena said, “She told you Mom wanted the garden kept until spring.”
“She did.”
“Your mother had been dead eighteen months. The garden had weeds higher than the fence.”
“Anna needed time.”
“Then she should have said that.”
“She did.”
“After she invoked your mother.”
Daniel rubbed his thumb against the edge of the island.
“What does this have to do with you grabbing her?”
“Nothing excuses that.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“It has to do with the story I was telling myself. That Anna used fragility to control you. That your family protected her from consequences. That if I didn’t force boundaries, no one would.”
“So you appointed yourself.”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever tell me plainly?”
“I tried in ways that let me deny I was jealous.”
“Meaning?”
“I complained about timing. Money. The house. Sunday calls. I never said, ‘I am afraid your sister and your dead mother will always outrank me.’”
“Why not?”
“Because it sounded cruel.”
“It was still there.”
“Yes.”
Daniel stood and walked to the living room.
Serena did not follow.
He looked at a framed photograph on the shelf. It showed him and Serena at a street fair, sunburned, holding a paper plate between them. The day had no connection to grief, weddings, or family. He remembered Serena laughing because mustard had dripped onto his shoe.
“Why did you ask Anna to play the song?” he said.
“I wanted to give you something meaningful.”
“That part was real?”
“Yes.”
“What changed?”
“I heard how you spoke about it.”
“At the rehearsal?”
“Yes.”
“You said you were in the hallway.”
“I came to tell you the florist had changed the aisle arrangements. Then I heard you say the song would be like your mother’s blessing.”
Daniel set the photograph down.
“So you canceled it.”
“I intended to.”
“You told Anna there would be no piano, after asking her the night before to remove Mom from her speech.”
“Yes.”
“You knew she might misunderstand.”
“I told myself she wouldn’t.”
“Why not send a message?”
“Because then she would ask why. You would get involved. Everyone would discuss my feelings. I wanted one decision that didn’t become a family referendum.”
“You keep making control sound efficient.”
Serena flinched.
Daniel returned to the island.
“What do you believe anger permits?” he asked.
She looked at him sharply.
“Anna asked me to ask.”
“Of course she did.”
“Answer.”
Serena looked down at the ring beside her phone.
“Yesterday, I believed anger permitted me to stop something physically when words failed.”
“And today?”
“Today I know words didn’t fail. I decided the person hearing them did not have the right to refuse.”
Daniel sat.
Serena’s voice became quieter. “That is not a safe belief.”
“No.”
“I don’t know where it came from.”
“You don’t need to know where it came from to know it was yours.”
“Yes.”
They sat with the phones recording.
After several minutes, Daniel said, “I’m ending the engagement.”
Serena did not move.
The coffee machine clicked as its warming plate turned off.
“Today?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Permanently?”
“I don’t know what permanent means after one day. But I’m not asking you to wait. I’m not promising we’ll come back.”
Her lips trembled once, then steadied.
“Is this because Anna asked you to?”
“No.”
“Because of the video?”
“No.”
“Because your family expects it?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they don’t agree.”
Serena looked up.
“Aunt Louise wants me to leave you. Uncle Robert thinks postponing was enough. Claire thinks I should wait thirty days. Anna refused to tell me.”
A tear slipped down Serena’s cheek. She wiped it away with irritation.
“Then why?”
“Because I don’t trust you with power over people I love.”
“What about power over you?”
“I’m not sure I trusted myself enough to notice when you used it.”
She turned away.
May you like
Daniel continued, “And because you were lonely for months and chose secrecy over honesty. I contributed to the loneliness. I didn’t make you grab Anna. Both things are true.”
Serena pressed her palm against her forehead.
