Chapter 25 - WHAT I OWED MAYAI once believed my debt to Maya was protection.
Wrong.
I owed her belief, yes.
But not blind belief.
I owed her the dignity of evidence.
I owed her acknowledgment that I had helped create her isolation by trusting Victoria’s interpretations over my wife’s increasingly strange behavior.
I owed her an apology for the hotel text to Julian.
For stopped calls.
For walking into the bedroom prepared to accuse.
For lifting the blanket before she truly wanted me to.
That last one took me months to understand.
“I thought there was another man.”
Maya looked at me during therapy.
“So?”
“I was angry.”
“So you thought anger gave you the right to uncover me?”
No.
It didn’t.
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded.
No absolution.
May you like
Good.
I needed to learn apologies were not vending machines.
