Katrina

Chapter Ten - Story A

The Things We Cannot Say

The afternoon passed quietly at the estate, but Katherine knew better than to mistake silence for peace.

Avery had barely spoken to her since breakfast. J.J. was less distant, though he still approached her cautiously, as if he hadn't decided what place she deserved in his life.

Katherine understood. She had returned to a family that had learned to live without her, and no amount of cooking or kindness could erase the years she had missed.

Michelle, however, seemed determined to make herself at home.

She had discovered a small sitting room overlooking the garden and was now occupied with a box of coloured pencils someone had brought her.

Jason found her there when he passed the open doorway.

“What are you drawing?”

Michelle looked up. “A house.”

He stepped closer. “That's a rather large house.”

“It has to be. There are lots of people.”

Jason glanced at the paper. The house had crooked windows, a red roof, and several figures scattered across the front lawn.

“Who's that?” he asked, pointing to a small figure near the door.

“Mummy.”

“And that one?”

“Me.”

He nodded toward another figure, drawn considerably taller than the others.

“Is that me?”

Michelle examined the picture before answering.

“Yes.”

Something in Jason's expression softened.

“I'm honoured.”

She returned to her drawing, apparently satisfied that the matter had been settled.

Jason pulled a chair closer but didn't interrupt her again. For several minutes, he simply watched her work, answering her occasional questions and offering a pencil when she couldn't find the colour she wanted.

It was an ordinary little moment, almost insignificant.

Yet when Katherine appeared at the doorway and saw them together, she stopped.

Jason looked comfortable beside her daughter. Michelle, who could be shy around unfamiliar people, seemed at ease with him.

Katherine felt a complicated ache in her chest.

She was glad Michelle was comfortable. She wanted her daughter to have the chance to know the people who belonged to her family.

But she was also painfully aware of everything that remained unresolved between Jason and herself.

Their shared past could not be erased simply because they were under the same roof again.

Jason noticed her standing there.

“She's been drawing the estate,” he said.

Michelle held up the paper. “Look, Mummy! Jason is in it too.”

Katherine smiled. “I can see that, sweetheart.”

“I'm making another one. This time, everyone will fit.”

Jason glanced at Katherine. For a moment, neither spoke.

Then she said, “Thank you for keeping her company.”

“You don't have to thank me.”

Perhaps she did, Katherine thought. There were many things between them that neither knew how to discuss, and gratitude was easier than any of them.

Michelle returned to her drawing, unaware of the silence that had settled between the adults.

Katherine stayed only a little longer before leaving them together.

She told herself it was a good thing.

She wanted to believe that, without reservation.

---

She found Avery later in the garden.

The girl was sitting on a low stone wall, her arms folded across her chest. When she noticed Katherine approaching, she looked away.

“May I sit with you?” Katherine asked.

“I can't stop you.”

The answer was sharp enough to warn her, but Katherine sat at the other end of the wall.

For a while, neither spoke.

Then Avery said, “Michelle seems happy.”

Katherine turned toward her. “She is.”

“Must be nice.”

There was something beneath those words that made Katherine pause.

“Avery—”

“You came back with a daughter. You have someone who loves you no matter what you do.”

Katherine's heart tightened. “You don't know everything I've been through.”

“And you don't know everything we've been through without you.”

Avery finally looked at her. Her eyes were bright, but she seemed determined not to cry.

“You keep saying you want us to get to know you. What about the years when we needed you? Where were you then?”

Katherine had no easy answer.

“I wasn't there,” she said quietly. “And I'm sorry.”

“Sorry doesn't change anything.”

“No. It doesn't.”

Avery looked almost disappointed that Katherine hadn't argued.

“You expect me to let you back into our lives because you've returned? You expect me to pretend you didn't leave?”

“I don't expect that.”

“Then prove it.”

Katherine studied her face. “How?”

Avery hesitated. For a moment, she looked less angry than frightened.

“Choose us.”

The words landed heavily between them.

“Choose us over Michelle,” Avery continued. “If you really want to be our mother again, show us that we're important too. Don't just spend your time with her and expect us to accept you.”

Katherine went still.

“Avery, I love you and J.J. But Michelle is my daughter. Loving her doesn't mean I love you any less.”

“You weren't here to love us before.”

“I know.”

“Then how am I supposed to believe you now?”

Katherine struggled to answer. She could hear the hurt beneath Avery's accusations, but she could also see the impossible demand taking shape.

Avery wanted reassurance that Katherine would never leave again. She wanted proof that she mattered.

And she was asking Katherine to provide that proof by making her own daughter feel less important.

“I won't ask you to forgive me before you're ready,” Katherine said. “You have every right to be angry with me. But I can't prove I love you by hurting Michelle.”

Avery's face hardened.

“Of course. You always have an excuse.”

“That's not what I said.”

“You say you want to be part of this family, but when I ask you to choose us, you choose her.”

Katherine felt the words settle like stones inside her.

She wanted to reach for Avery, but the girl moved away before she could.

“Forget it,” Avery muttered, sliding off the wall. “I knew you wouldn't understand.”

She walked back toward the house without looking behind her.

Katherine remained in the garden.

She knew Avery was hurting. She knew the anger had been building long before her return, fed by years of absence and the fear that she might disappear again.

But understanding a child's pain did not mean every demand born from it could be met.

Katherine had returned hoping to rebuild what she had lost.

She was beginning to understand that the people she loved might ask her to prove herself in ways that could hurt everyone involved.

And she did not yet know how to help Avery without letting that happen.