Mom stepped inside.
She held the blanket out.
“I made this.”
I took it.
“Thank you.”
She looked at the baby.
“She looks like you.”
I smiled faintly.
“She has your stubbornness,” Derek said.
Mom laughed through her tears.
For the first time in years, it sounded genuine.
She sat beside the bassinet and watched Clara sleep.
Then she whispered,
“I know you may never forgive me.”
I didn’t answer immediately.
Forgiveness was not something I owed her.
Trust wasn’t either.
But I finally understood that I didn’t need hatred to protect myself.
“I don’t know what happens next,” I said.
“But if you want to be part of Clara’s life, you have to learn how to be part of mine without taking from me.”
