I answered while Ethan prepared dinner.
“Olivia,” she asked quietly, “did you see the house?”
“Yes.”
There was a long silence.
“Your father loved that place.”
“I know.”
“I hated losing it,” she whispered.
“I know that too, Mom.”
Her voice trembled.
“I was so frightened you’d marry someone who couldn’t give you security. I couldn’t bear watching you go through what I went through.”
I looked across the room at Ethan.
He was standing at the kitchen counter, humming softly as he cooked.
“Mom, Ethan has always made me feel safe.”
“You don’t understand what losing that house did to me.”
“I was there, Mom.”
She fell silent.
“I lost it too. And I never stopped loving Dad because we couldn’t afford to keep it.”
She didn’t answer.
“Ethan shouldn’t have needed to become wealthy before you treated him with respect.”
A long pause followed.
