He found me at the edge of the headland at the end of the afternoon.
The light was going gold and the group had loosened into smaller conversations and Rose was asleep in the carrier against Damien’s chest across the grass, which was where she had arrived after Mrs. Aldren and Diana had each had a turn and the general consensus was that Rose had decided her father’s chest was the correct location for the second half of the event.
Robert appeared beside me at the headland’s edge with two glasses of wine and offered one without speaking, which was his best mode of approach and I had learned to appreciate it.
We stood and looked at the Pacific.
“I want to say something,” he said. “That I have been constructing for some time.”
“All right,” I said.
“What I did to this marriage,” he said.
