“I protected me.”
That stopped me.
“I wanted my marriage to be mine. Not yours. Not Mom’s. Not Dad’s. Mine.”
I sat beside her.
Grace looked at Daniel.
“I knew why he signed.”
Then she looked back at me.
“And I chose him anyway.”
There it was.
The sentence everyone in our family should have understood from the beginning.
Grace chose.
Not my parents.
Not Daniel.
Not me.
Grace.
I leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“I’m sorry.”
“For yelling?”
“For thinking I always had to protect you.”
Grace smiled.
“You can still protect me sometimes.”
“Deal.”
“But not from Daniel.”
Daniel raised his eyebrows.
“Thank you.”
Grace looked at him.
“I’m still mad you told her before I could.”
“You were unconscious.”
“Excuses.”
I laughed so hard I started crying again.
The twins stayed in the neonatal unit for almost a month.
They named them Lucy and Samuel.
Grace recovered slowly.
My parents sent flowers.
Grace sent them back.
They requested visits.
Grace declined.
That mattered.
It was her decision.
Not mine.