Chapter 26 - THE NEXT CHRISTMASOne year later, we did not return to the mountain cabin.
Peyton chose.
We rented a smaller house with my sister’s family.
No Walter.
No Bryce.
No pressure to reconcile for a holiday photograph.
Peyton’s shoulder had healed fully.
She returned to swimming.
Could raise both arms overhead.
The first time she dove from the starting block after medical clearance, I nearly stopped breathing.
She surfaced.
Annoyed.
“Mom, stop looking like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I exploded.”
Fair.
On Christmas Eve she received a letter.
From Bryce.
Approved through therapists and both families.
She read it alone.
Then brought it to me.
It said, in part:
I kept saying I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. My therapist said that isn’t the same as saying I meant to shove you. I did. I’m sorry.
No request for forgiveness.
Good.
Peyton folded it.
“Can I write back?”
“Yes.”
“Do I have to?”
“No.”
She thought.
“I’m not ready.”
“Then don’t.”
She put the letter into a drawer.
Not trash.
Not framed.
May you like
A possibility.
That was enough.
