Chapter 12 - Ellen’s silence
Ellen barely spoke to Michael for six weeks.
Not because lawyers ordered it.
Because she did not know what to say.
One evening she sat on our porch holding tea.
She said:
“I keep remembering him at six.”
“What about six?”
“He used to run into our bed during thunderstorms.”
I said nothing.
“He’d put his whole body against me.”
She looked at her bruised arm, now healed.
“And at the wedding he looked at me like I was a problem to move.”
That sentence destroyed me more than the video.
Then she said:
“Do you think Cassandra changed him?”
Careful question.
Easy answer:
Yes.
Blame the bride.
I resisted.
“No.”
Ellen looked at me.
“I think she gave him a context where parts of him became easier to see.”
She cried.
So did I.
Michael was responsible for his hand.
May you like
Cassandra for hers.
Marriage did not transfer ownership of either.
