“I owe you an apology,” she said.
“I thought about making a list.”
“A list?”
“Of reasons.”
“That sounds like your family.”
“Yes.”
Then she looked down.
“But reasons become excuses very easily.”
“I was afraid Michael would lose his home.”
“It wasn’t his home to lose.”
“I understand that now.”
“It was his home in one sense.”
Linda faced me.
“He lived there. We built a marriage there. He belonged there.”
“Yes.”
“But belonging and ownership aren’t the same thing.”
“No.”
“When Robert died, I felt foolish.”
“Everyone kept telling me I couldn’t have known about the debts. But all I could think was that I should have known.”
She glanced at the window.
“So afterward, I promised myself I would never be caught unprepared again.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
Linda smiled sadly.
“It is.”
For once, I understood that her constant questions about our finances, our plans, our property never been simple nosiness. But understanding someone’s wound can help you set a boundary without turning them into a villain.
