Chapter 6 - The Apology She Wanted
On Tuesday, Claire asked to meet at my house.
Emmett called first.
“Only if you’re comfortable.”
“Is Margot going to be there?”
“No. I’ll bring her after preschool another day. This is for the adults.”
For the first time since Saturday, I felt a little hope.
Claire arrived carrying a bakery box.
She placed it on the table as carefully as if it contained something breakable.
“I know Margot likes the ones with sprinkles.”
“She does.”
Nobody opened the box.
Emmett pulled out a chair, but Claire remained standing.
“I said something badly. I was overwhelmed. There were people everywhere, and she kept asking where she should stand.”
“Because she was excited,” I said.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Emmett raised his hand slightly.
“Let her finish.”
I sat back.
He was right.
I had asked for the truth.
I needed to leave enough silence for her to say it.
Claire finally sat.
“I wanted one day that wasn’t about Phoebe.”
Emmett’s jaw tightened.
“Our daughter isn’t a memorial.”
“Everything comes back to her. The stories, the photographs, the way your father-in-law watches me.”
She looked straight at me.
“You never thought I was good enough.”
I considered the accusation instead of throwing it back.
Had I watched her too closely?
Probably.
Had I compared her laugh to my daughter’s and hated myself for noticing the difference?
Yes.
“I was careful with you,” I said.
“That may not have felt welcoming. But I wanted this marriage to work.”
“Then why humiliate me?”
“Because I handled my anger badly. I should have spoken to Emmett before the ceremony.”
She leaned forward.
“Will you tell the guests that?”
“I’ll tell them I regret making Margot’s pain public.”
“And that you misunderstood.”
“I didn’t misunderstand.”
The softness left her face.
Emmett watched her.
“Claire, what are you apologizing for?”
“I just told you.”
“For hurting her, or for the fact that people heard about it?”
She pushed back from the table.
“I’m trying to save our marriage.”
“Then stop making my daughter the price.”
Claire picked up her purse.
At the door, she turned to him.
“You promised we would make our own family.”
“We already had one.”
Her fingers tightened around the strap.
“Then maybe you should have told me there was never going to be room for anybody else.”
She left the cupcakes behind.
Emmett stared at the closed door.
May you like
“There was room,” he said.
Neither of us touched the box.
