Some days she felt powerful.
Some days she sat on the bathroom floor shaking because a slammed door on television brought her body back to the apartment.
Some days she wanted to call him.
Not because she wanted him back, but because grief is strange. You can miss the apology you never got. You can ache for a version of someone that may never have existed. You can mourn the years you gave away while still being grateful you survived them.
Dr. Porter told her that healing did not require hatred.
“Do I have to forgive him?” Lenora asked one afternoon.
“No,” Dr. Porter said.
The answer surprised her.
“No?”
“Forgiveness is yours to define or refuse. Safety comes first. Truth comes next. Peace may come later. But forced forgiveness often protects the person who caused harm more than the person who survived it.”
Lenora sat with that.
Peace may come later.
