Chapter 13
Victoria asked to see Noah.
I said the decision belonged to him and Margaret would stay nearby.
She hated that.
“He’s three.”
“Yes.”
“He can’t decide something like that.”
“He can decide whether he feels safe sitting in the same room with someone who shoved him.”
Silence.
Eventually Noah agreed.
Ten minutes.
Garden bench.
Margaret beside him.
I watched from far enough away not to dominate the moment.
Victoria did not touch him.
Good.
She said:
“I was mean to you.”
Noah looked at her.
“Yes.”
No euphemism.
Children are efficient.
Victoria swallowed.
“I shouldn’t have taken your chair.”
“No.”
“Or made you carry plates.”
“No.”
She looked toward Sophie.
“And I shouldn’t have told you Sophie mattered more.”
Noah frowned.
“Sophie nice.”
Victoria started crying.
That was the sentence.
Not Daddy loves me more.
Not I hate Sophie.
Sophie nice.
Her whole hierarchy collapsed against the actual relationship between the children.
Noah picked at the edge of the bench.
Then asked:
“You still marry Daddy?”
Victoria looked toward me.
I did not help.
“No.”
Noah thought.
“Okay.”
That was all.
He did not need a dramatic explanation.
May you like
The wedding mattered far more to adults than to him.
Safety mattered now.
