Chapter 17 - Dominic Fell to His Knees
A year after everything began, Dominic came to my townhouse on Harold's birthday.
He carried no flowers.
No envelope.
No check.
Just himself.
We sat beside Harold's chair.
“I dreamed about Dad last night,” he said.
“What happened?”
“He wouldn't talk to me.”
I waited.
Dominic looked at the floor.
“I spent a year trying to figure out what I could do so you'd forgive me.”
“And?”
“I finally realized that's selfish too.”
I looked at him.
He continued.
“Forgiveness is yours. I don't get to earn it like points.”
Tears filled his eyes.
“I just have to become someone who would never do that again, whether you forgive me or not.”
Then he slid from the chair onto his knees beside me.
Not theatrically.
He simply broke.
“Mom, I'm sorry.”
I touched his face.
He was forty-two.
But for one second, I saw the frightened little boy from thunderstorms again.
“I know.”
“Can you forgive me?”
I took my time.
Then I said:
“Yes.”
He cried.
So did I.
“But Dominic?”
He looked up.
“Forgiveness doesn't rewrite history.”
“I know.”
“It means history doesn't get to write the rest of us.”
He put his head against my shoulder.
May you like
And for the first time, I believed we might actually be okay.
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