Me too. And Sam. Even though she pretended she had dust in her eye, the healing didn’t come all at once after that. That’s not how real healing works. Some mornings, Janet woke up confused and scared.
Some nights he would check the locks three times. Sometimes a particular smell, a specific shadow, or even the sound of footsteps in the hallway would make his whole body tense up.
But now, when those moments came, I wasn’t alone. And that matters. Being hurt changes a person. Being believed changes them too. We started little by little. Breakfasts on the porch, short walks in the garden, music in the kitchen, letters answered, lawyers hired, the truth told.
And one bright Saturday morning, about three weeks after Janet had come home, we went together to the lake property. The willow was still there. The water still caught the sunlight in tiny broken fragments.
The old bench her father had built was worn by time, but it still stood firm. Janet stood there for a long time, breathing in the air, looking at the place that greed had tried to turn into paper money and profit.
Then he said, “Did you think money mattered more than people?” “Yes,” I said. He looked at me. You were wrong. “Yes,” I replied again, more forcefully. This time you were wrong. We kept the lake property.
That mattered too. There are things that shouldn’t be sold just because some selfish person can put a price on them. A month later, when the first court hearing arrived, Janet was wearing a soft blue sweater and stood more upright than I’d seen her in years.
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