Somehow, that made me trust the moment more.
Nobody was pretending anymore.
June slid one unopened birthday card across the table.
Vanessa stared at it.
“You wrote it,” June said. “You should read it.”
Vanessa opened the envelope slowly. Her hands shook as she unfolded the card.
I could have left.
Twenty years earlier, Vanessa had asked me not to.
I pulled out a chair.
And stayed.