“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
He fell silent.
I continued.
“And now I’m sitting here questioning how many times you’ve done something similar to me.”
His expression shifted.
“Done what?”
“I’m sitting here questioning how many times you’ve done something similar to me.”
“Made me believe something was my decision when you’d already decided what the correct choice was supposed to be.”
“Nina, seriously.”
“Yes. I’m serious.”
I gestured toward the stairs.
“We created a family inside this house. I trusted you with our finances, with Emma, with choices I believed we were making together. Now Helena tells me you were trying to influence her life through favors, and I’m supposed to believe that tendency ended at her doorstep?”
“We created a family inside this house.”
Mark lowered his voice.
“I have never tried to control you.”
“Maybe not in the same way you tried influencing Helena.”
I met his gaze.
“But tonight, for the first time in our marriage, I’m wondering whether I overlooked it because you were better at making it seem like concern.”
“I have never tried to control you.”
This time, he had no immediate response.
“Tomorrow, we’re reviewing every account together,” I said. “And until I decide what comes next, there will be no more private loans, favors, or promises involving our money.”
“You’re punishing me.”
“No. I’m removing the part where I don’t know what I’m supposedly agreeing to.”
“You’re punishing me.”
Later that afternoon, Helena called me.
“Sophie told one friend why Emma wasn’t invited. Now people are hearing about it.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“I was considering canceling the party.”
I could hear Sophie behind her.
“Mom, please don’t. You already made me lose Emma because of this. Please don’t take away the party too.”
“What are you planning to do?”
Helena became quiet.
Then she said, “I think I’ve made this whole situation worse.”
“You have.”
“I know.”
“But you can stop making choices for Sophie because you’re afraid of dealing with Mark.”
“I think I’ve made this whole situation worse.”
Helena sighed.
“What if Emma doesn’t want to attend?”
“Then Sophie deserves to hear that directly from Emma.”
There was a pause.
“You’re right.”
“I know.”
“You’re right.”
That evening, Emma walked downstairs wearing a pale-pink dress.
She held the scrapbook tightly against her chest.
“I’m still upset,” she said.
“You can still be upset and choose to go.”
She nodded once.
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“I’m still upset.”
At the party, Sophie hurried outside before we’d even reached the entrance.
She looked at Emma and immediately began crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Emma remained where she stood.
“You let me believe you hated me.”
“I know.”
“You let me believe you hated me.”
“Why?”
Sophie wiped her cheeks.
“Because everything became complicated, and I didn’t know how to explain it without sharing things that weren’t mine to share.”
Emma’s voice trembled. “You could’ve at least told me it wasn’t because of me.”
“Because everything became complicated.”
“I should have.”
Sophie lowered her eyes.
“After my parents separated, Mom worried constantly. Bills, the car, everything. Your dad helped us, and for a while… I stopped feeling like everything might collapse.”
Emma’s expression softened.
“I should have.”
“He made me feel like someone was finally in my corner,” Sophie continued. “Then Mom stopped following his advice, and suddenly the support disappeared too.”
She looked at Emma.
“I was angry about what he did. And I hated that part of me still felt thankful for everything he’d done before.”
Emma’s eyes filled with tears.
“You should’ve told me.”
“I was angry about what he did.”
“I know.”
“No, Sophie, I mean actually told me. I would’ve been upset. I would’ve cried. But I wouldn’t have blamed you because your family needed help.”
Sophie covered her mouth.
Emma moved closer.
“And I’m sorry too.”
“I would’ve been upset. I would’ve cried.”
Sophie blinked.
“For what?”
“For almost deciding that your mom had taken advantage of my dad. For turning everything into a question of who owed whom before I understood how worried you both were.”
Sophie shook her head.
“You didn’t know.”
“For almost deciding that your mom had taken advantage of my dad.”
“I still thought about it.”
For a moment, neither girl spoke.
Then Emma handed Sophie the scrapbook.
Sophie opened it to the first page, where they were five years old with missing front teeth.
“I missed you,” Sophie whispered.
“I missed you too.”
“I missed you.”
“Can we repair this?”
Emma looked at her.
“Not tonight.”
Sophie’s expression fell.
Emma reached for her hand.
“Tonight, we just began.”
They walked through the doors together.
“Can we repair this?”
Helena stepped outside a minute later.
“I’m sorry, Nina.”
“I know.”
“Are you heading home?”
I glanced toward my car.
For seventeen years, I’d mistaken keeping everyone calm for protecting my family.
“I’m sorry, Nina.”
I wasn’t going to do that anymore.
“No,” I said.
“Where are you going?”
“Somewhere I can think without anyone telling me what I’m supposed to forgive.”
For once, I didn’t need Mark’s explanation, Helena’s regret, or anyone else’s answer.
I climbed into my car.
Whatever happened afterward, I wouldn’t be afraid to ask difficult questions anymore.
I wasn’t going to do that anymore.
