Chapter 22 - No More Family Meetings
When Margaret was released, she moved to Worcester.
Not Victoria.
A small apartment near her cousin.
Probation required financial reporting and no unauthorized contact.
She followed.
After six months she requested mediation.
I refused.
After one year, requested again.
I considered.
Dr. Blake asked:
“What would you need?”
“Not apology.”
“What?”
“To see whether she understands no.”
So I sent through Susan:
I am not ready for contact. Please do not ask again for twelve months.
Margaret replied:
Understood.
No guilt.
No second request.
That was first test.
Twelve months later, I agreed to one therapeutic mediation without Grace present.
Margaret looked older.
She began:
“I’m sorry.”
I said:
“For what?”
She closed eyes.
“For throwing soup at you. For using your trust. For falsifying consent. For telling myself Victoria’s pain entitled me to your resources. For blaming your strength.”
No “but.”
Good.
“Why did you do it?”
“I thought love meant making sure the child in more pain got more.”
“And what did that make me?”
“The child who could absorb loss.”
“Yes.”
Tears.
“I was wrong.”
“Yes.”
I did not comfort.
She asked:
“Can I meet Grace?”
“No.”
She nodded.
“Okay.”
That “okay” mattered more than tears.
May you like
Maybe someday.
Not then.
