"She's been sober six years," he said. "She found me through the firm website. Wrote me an email. Said she didn't want money. Said she didn't want you to have to see her if you weren't ready. Said she had a grandson she had never met and she was trying to become someone who deserved to meet him." He exhaled. "I deleted the first email. And the second. The third one had a scan of her one-year chip and a note from her sponsor. I sat with that for a week. Then I answered."
Aaliyah wiped her hands on a dish towel that suddenly felt like it belonged to a different woman in a different kitchen.
"You answered," she said. "Without me."
"I know."
"You let her into Elias's life. Without me."
"I know."
"You let our son call her the nice lady. You let him put on her clothes. You let him make a memory of her that I can't take back even if I want to." Her voice stayed low because Elias was down the hall, but the low did not make it soft. "And you did it for two years, Marcus. Two years of looking me in the face at dinner and talking about your day and never once saying, By the way, your mother came by the office again."