“I laughed once. I’m sorry.”
I handed the microphone back.
“I’m not asking for a line of apologies. I’m asking you to stop calling it harmless.”
***
Later, I found Betty in the hallway, twisting a napkin between her fingers.
Don’t miss
“Would you speak to Layla, please?” she asked again.
“I’m not asking for a line of apologies.”
“Not until you’ve told her the truth about us. That’s my condition.”
“I will.”
“And she chooses whether to meet me. You don’t arrange my forgiveness through your daughter.”
Betty nodded.
“I’ll talk to her about confidence, school, and speaking up. I won’t be used as a before-and-after lesson.”
“I understand.”
“You don’t arrange my forgiveness through your daughter.”
“Do you?” I asked. “Because an hour ago, you thought my smaller body was the happy ending.”
Her face tightened.
“You’re right. I still had it wrong.”
“Tell Layla what you did. Then ask what she needs.”
“I will,” she said. “And I won’t ask you to forgive me tonight.”
“Tell Layla what you did.”
That mattered more than another speech.
“Good.”
