Clara’s weakened voice filled the room.
“Aria. Shaun. Your father loved you. Gwen believed she was protecting me, but fear isn’t truth. I should’ve asked your father for the truth.”
Aria covered her mouth.
“Gwen said you caused Mom’s stroke,” Shaun said from the doorway. “She said Mom collapsed because you chose another woman.”
My grip tightened around my cane.
“And after Mom struggled for years, Gwen said she’d lost the will to recover because of you,” Aria added. “We blamed you when she died.”
I looked at both of them.
“You were children living inside the only story an adult allowed you to hear.”
Then I called Gwen.
“I found Clara’s note.”
“What do you want, Andrew?”
“You’ve spoken for my wife long enough. Tomorrow, you listen.”
The family gathered the following evening.
Gwen stood at the head of the table.
“I did what Clara needed.”
“No,” I said. “You did what kept Clara dependent on you.”
“I protected her from you.”
“You photographed me, assumed the worst, then hid behind the car accident.”
I turned to Aria and Shaun.
“I failed your mother too. She asked me what I was hiding, and I gave her silence. I thought being faithful was enough.”
Gwen raised her chin.
“Exactly.”
I faced her again.
“That was my failure. The next 40 years were your choice.”
Aria placed Sarah’s records on the table.
“Did Dad ever say he was leaving us?” she asked.
“No.”
“Did you learn that he was searching?”
Gwen lowered her eyes.
“Eventually.”
Shaun rested his arm on the table, the old watch visible on his wrist.
“You let us hate him.”
“I thought the truth would destroy you.”
