THE RECONCILIATION
430 Words
Vanessa showed up at my apartment with a suitcase.
"Can I stay for a few days?" she asked. "I need to get out of my place. Too many memories."
"Of course."
She walked in. Set her suitcase by the door. Looked around.
"It's different here," she said. "Warmer."
"That's Julian. He has a thing for plants."
Vanessa smiled. "He's good for you."
"He is."
She sat on the couch. Pulled her knees up to her chest.
"I talked to our father," she said.
I sat down across from her.
"What did he say?"
"He said he was sorry. That he'd made mistakes. That he wanted to see you." Vanessa looked at me. "I told him it wasn't my choice to make."
"What did you want him to say?"
"I wanted him to say that he regretted leaving you. That he thought about you every day. That he wished he'd been different." She looked down. "He didn't say any of that."
"I'm not surprised."
"Aren't you angry?"
I thought about it. About the father who had left when I was seven. Who had never looked back. Who had raised Vanessa while pretending I didn't exist.
"I used to be," I said. "Now I'm just tired."
"Of being angry?"
"Of carrying it." I leaned back. "It's heavy, Vanessa. Being angry all the time. It wears you out."
"So what do you do?"
"You let it go." I looked at her. "Not because they deserve it. Because you do."
---
Julian came home with groceries an hour later.
He found us on the couch, watching old movies, eating popcorn. Vanessa was laughing. I was laughing. It felt like something we'd been doing our whole lives.
"Am I interrupting?" Julian asked.
"No," Vanessa said. "Come sit."
He sat between us. Put his arm around me. Vanessa leaned her head on his shoulder.
"This is nice," she said.
"It is."
"I wish we'd done this sooner."
"Me too." I looked at her. "But we're doing it now. That's what matters."
---
That night, after Vanessa went to sleep, Julian and I sat on the balcony.
The city was quiet. The stars were out. The air was cool.
"She's different," Julian said.
"Who?"
"Vanessa. Softer."
"She's healing."
"So are you."
I leaned my head on his shoulder.
"I know," I said. "It's strange."
"What is?"
"Not being angry. Not having a plan. Not waiting for something to go wrong."
Julian kissed my hair.
"That's called peace," he said.
"I'm not sure I know how to do peace."
"You're learning." He took my hand. "We both are."
- Writer
