She looked nothing like the fragile, scarf-wrapped figure Ethan had paraded through that parking lot, engaged in who-knows-what with a woman playing the part of his dying mother. “I’ve been living there for over a decade,” she continued. “When I moved, I cut Ethan off from all of my accounts.
He was reckless with money, always wanting more. I haven’t heard from him in years. I didn’t even know he was married.
Ethan’s father left this house to him before he passed, so I figured… I’d move from here. And I’d get away from him and his toxicity.”
“He made me believe that you didn’t want anything to do with me,” I said. Tears stung my eyes.
“He made me believe that you were dying. I gave him everything, Gail.”
Her expression softened with regret. “I can’t undo the pain he caused, honey, but I can repay what he stole.
And if you’ll let me, I’d like to know you. Mrs. Parker sang your praises,” she said, smiling.
Something in me loosened, a knot finally undone. “I’d like that,” I said. Half an hour later, Gail and I sat at the kitchen table, sipping tea and sharing freshly baked scones.
I knew it was the start of something honest.
