Evelyn knew she would never forget, and never, ever forgive. There was nothing that could be done to erase the scars a parent left on a child. There was no way to take back the past, to relive those days the way they should have been lived the first time: with her father by her side, supporting her, loving her, encouraging her. There was no equivalent to eighteen birthdays missed, eighteen years spent wondering.
His being here now -- showing up on her doorstep eighteen years late -- didn't mean nothing. But it didn't mean enough. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
No comments:
Post a Comment