I reached for her hand.
“You don’t have to protect me from loving you.”
She broke down completely.
I got up, walked around the table, and wrapped my arms around her.
For a long time, we sat there crying together.
We had both lost our mother.
We had both grown up carrying questions about her illness.
And now, instead of facing those questions together, we had allowed fear to turn us into strangers.
Later that evening, Eliam came home.
Vanessa had left to prepare for another appointment, taking the medical documents with her.
I was sitting at the kitchen table when he walked in.
He looked at me carefully.
“Did she tell you?”
I nodded.
He sat opposite me.
“I’m sorry.”
I stared at him.
“Why did you think lying to me was the right thing to do?”
He took a long breath.
“Because I thought I was helping her. She called me crying, and I didn’t know what to do. She said she needed time to understand the diagnosis before telling you anything.”
