I thought I was prepared when Paul and Linda came to my home, but nothing about that day felt simple. They arrived hand in hand, smiling like two newlyweds ready to begin a new life, even though that life had started only one month after my mother’s funeral.
For weeks, I had been putting together a small box. I told myself it was a wedding gift. In truth, it was the first time I had enough proof to stop arguing and let my mother’s own words speak for her.
Linda looked around my living room and asked if I was really going through with it. I told her I wanted to give them something special.
Paul’s expression changed before the ribbon even came off. Maybe he noticed I was too calm. Maybe he understood that I was no longer trying to persuade anyone.