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Mama rubbed my cheek. “And? I don’t think she ever will.”
I looked at her. “What do you mean, and?”
“What are you waiting for?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
I sighed. “Maybe part of me thinks if she forgave me… then I’d finally feel like I’m allowed to be done with it.”
“Oh, baby.”
“I know it sounds stupid.”
“It doesn’t.”
She stood, walked around the island, and leaned against the counter beside me.
“You gotta let that go.”
I looked at her. “But she may never forgive me.”
“And she has that right, but her forgiveness cannot become a permission slip for your life.”
“Have you moved on from Caleb?”
“Yes.”
“Have you went to therapy?”
“Yes.”
“Did you change how you move?”
I nodded.
“Have you owned what you did?”
“Yes.”
“Then what exactly are you waiting to happen?”
Mama rubbed my shoulder. “For Ravenna to knock on your door and tell you your sentence is over?”
That hurt because… maybe.
“I don’t know.”
She sighed. “I do.”
I looked up.
“You’re still punishing yourself because some part of you thinks feeling bad proves you’re sorry.”
“She called me a homewrecker.”
“I know.”
