Speechless(190)

                But eventually she reaches out and takes the sweater from me.                     “Oh,” she says. And then she says something I never, ever thought I’d hear:                     “Thanks.”

                When it becomes apparent she isn’t going to immediately slam                     the door in my face, I decide to be brave. Go big or go home, right? “I’m not                     sorry for what I did,” I say. No preamble necessary—she knows what I’m referring                     to. “I mean, I wish I’d done some things—a lot of things—differently, but not                     telling the cops. It was the right thing to do.”

                I’m not expecting her to apologize, or for her to even                     agree—but it still needs to be said.

                Her face goes hard. “Warren and Joey will probably go to jail.                     You ruined their lives,” she accuses.

                I don’t know yet if there will be a trial. If there is, and I                     have to testify, I’ll do it. Happily. I’m not scared of that prospect                     anymore.

                “They did that on their own,” I reply. “I think you know                     that.”

                For a second I think I see something register in her eyes, a                     truth hitting home, but her expression glosses over again a moment later. Maybe                     one day she’ll be able to admit it to herself. Maybe not. Today is not that day,                     and I know now that what she thinks doesn’t matter. Not as long as I know the                     truth about my own culpability. As long as I have Noah’s and Andy’s forgiveness.                     As long as I’ve forgiven myself—I’ve only just started to, but I’m getting                     there. Where Kristen believes the blame lies is no longer my problem.

                “Congratulations on the Snow Princess thing,” I tell her, and                     to my own surprise, I actually do mean it. “I’m glad you got what you                     wanted.”

                I walk to my car without looking back, and as I drive away, I’m                     hit with a sudden wave of sadness. But it’s a distant kind of sad—like when you                     look at your Barbies and realize you don’t want to play with them anymore,                     because you’re growing up and you’ve moved on, and in your heart you know it’s                     time to make room for other things.