Chapter 14 - THE FIRST DINNER AFTER THE MARBLE FLOOR
Three years after the incident, Adrian and I ate dinner together.
Not romantically.
For Elise.
She was almost three and had been asking why Mommy and Daddy never ate at the same table.
So we chose a restaurant.
Public.
Early.
Pasta.
No chandeliers.
Elise sat between us in a booster seat and ate exactly three bites before deciding crayons were more interesting.
Adrian laughed.
“She eats like you.”
“No.”
“You absolutely forget food when you're focused.”
“That is not hereditary.”
“Looks genetic.”
The conversation felt almost normal.
That surprised me.
Then a waiter dropped a plate behind us.
Ceramic hit the floor.
My body tightened.
Adrian saw.
His face changed.
“I’m sorry.”
I hated that my first instinct was to comfort him.
Old habits.
Instead I breathed.
“It passed.”
He nodded.
No speech.
After dinner, Elise asked:
“Daddy coming home?”
Adrian answered before I could.
“Daddy has his own home.”
Good.
No false hope.
No making me the rejecting parent.
Then:
“But I’ll see you Saturday.”
Elise accepted that instantly.
Children sometimes tolerate clear reality better than adults tolerate ambiguity.
Outside, Adrian asked:
“Do you think we’ll ever be friends?”
I almost laughed.
“That's ambitious.”
“Coffee acquaintances?”
“Maybe.”
He smiled.
“Progress.”
I looked at him.
“Don't measure it.”
His smile faded.
“Right.”
May you like
That was another lesson.
Healing was not an account he could optimize.
