“I built a good life for me,” I said. “She gets to grow inside it.”
He looked at me for a long second.
Then, because truth sometimes arrives very quietly, he said, “I know.”
Nora ran back over waving her drawing. “Look! It’s a fox but maybe also a dog.”
Nathan bent beside her immediately. “I can tell. Very advanced species.”
She giggled.
I could have left it there.
But some endings deserve a final clean line.
“Nathan.”
He straightened.
“Nora talks about your time together with real happiness,” I said. “I thought you should know that.”
His face changed in a way I can only describe as unguarded. Not hopeful. Just hit. Because praise from a woman who no longer needs anything from you lands differently than forgiveness ever could.
“Thank you,” he said.
I nodded once.
Then I turned toward the parking lot.
My car was three rows down. Elias was in the driver’s seat because he’d picked up takeout for all of us after work and texted, I’m early, so I stole the good parking spot. Through the windshield, I could see him pretending not to watch while absolutely watching, one hand draped over the steering wheel, patient in the way that still surprised me.
I did not hurry.
I did not look back right away.