“And whenever you reacted, I asked you to be the bigger person because you were easier.”
I closed my eyes.
“That was easier for you.”
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt.
Mom cried.
“I’m sorry.”
I stared toward hospital curtain.
“I don't know what to do with that tonight.”
“You don't have to do anything.”
That helped.
Daniel arrived around eleven.
He knocked softly despite curtain being open.
Mom looked at me.
I nodded.
He came in.
His cheek still showed a faint red mark.
I almost laughed.
“Welcome to the club.”
He smiled sadly.
“Yours was worse.”
He held out my purse.
Someone from resort had collected it.
“Thank you.”
Then he stood awkwardly.
“You don't have to stay.”
“I know.”
“Vanessa?”
“At hotel.”
“Is she okay?”
The question left my mouth before I could stop it.
Daniel stared.
“You almost drowned and you’re asking if she’s okay.”
“She’s still my sister.”
He looked toward chair.
“Can I sit?”
I nodded.
Mom excused herself to call relatives.
Daniel sat.
For several moments he said nothing.
Then:
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn't push me.”
“I saw warning signs.”
I looked at him.
“So did everybody.”
“I thought they were stress.”
“Wedding planning.”
“Her temper.”
“I kept telling myself once wedding was over, she'd settle.”
I almost smiled.
“Once this thing happens, everything will be better.”
“Yes.”
“That sentence has done a lot of damage.”
Daniel nodded.
“I canceled honeymoon because I needed something immediate.”
“I know.”
“It wasn't revenge.”
“You don't need to explain.”
“I do.”
He looked at floor.
“I knew if I didn't make one concrete decision, people would surround me and start telling me to wait.”
“Sleep on it.”
“Don't throw away the relationship over one mistake.”
He looked at me.
“So I canceled something.”
“One irreversible signal to myself.”
“The wedding?”
“Tomorrow morning.”