“I don't know.”
I nodded.
She looked tired.
Older.
Not dramatically.
Just human.
“Can I ask something?”
“Sure.”
“Did you ever consider coming back?”
I thought about lying.
Then didn't.
“Yes.”
Her eyes changed.
“When?”
“Many times.”
“Why didn't you?”
“Because missing you wasn't enough.”
Vanessa pressed her lips together.
“I miss you too.”
“I know.”
“I miss us.”
I looked at her.
“Which version?”
She didn't answer.
That question mattered more than either of us expected.
The good years had been real.
So were the bad ones.
Memory has a way of turning relationships into highlight reels after they end.
The Sunday walks.
The diner at midnight.
Christmas mornings.
The day we bought the house.
Those things happened.
So did 1:18 a.m.
So did the lies.
The $12,000.
The forged authorization.
The red dress.
Both versions were real.
“You know what I keep thinking about?” Vanessa asked.
“What?”
“That night.”
I knew.
“When you said okay.”
She nodded.
“I hated you for saying it.”
“I know.”
“I thought you were trying to scare me.”
“I wasn't.”
“I know that now.”
She looked out the window.
“I had spent weeks imagining that conversation.”
That interested me.
“What did you think would happen?”
“You'd get angry.”
“I figured.”
“I thought you'd tell me I couldn't go.”
“And then?”
“I'd call you controlling.”
I almost smiled.
“At least you're honest.”
“Or you'd accuse me of cheating.”
“You were.”
“I know.”
She looked embarrassed.
“Then I would tell you it was exactly why I couldn't be happy with you.”
“And if I begged?”
Her face tightened.
“I thought maybe you would.”
“Did you want me to?”
Silence.
“Yes.”
There it was.
“Why?”
“Because I wanted proof you still needed me.”
I stared at her.
“And threatening the marriage was how you wanted to get that proof?”
“I didn't understand how cruel it was until you didn't react.”
I thought about that.
“Vanessa, I needed you for years.”
“I know.”
“No. I mean I built my life around the assumption that you were staying.”
Her eyes filled again.
“That was trust.”
She whispered:
“I know.”
I stood.
Miriam was returning.
The conversation was ending.
Vanessa said:
“Daniel.”