“But they didn’t,” Mason said quietly. “The reality of it will hit soon enough.”
“I didn’t want you to find out later, Tess.”
We didn’t talk about forgiveness. There was nothing neat about this. There was no lesson wrapped neatly in a bow.
There were just a few tulip bulbs in the ground, dirt under my nails, and a silence that didn’t demand fixing.
I didn’t get my mother back, but I didn’t let them bury the truth with her.
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The tulips would come back in spring — hers always did.
I wasn’t going to live in that house anymore. I wasn’t going to pretend.
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