Emily and I sat on the small sofa.
For several seconds nobody spoke.
Then she looked at my cheek.
No mark remained.
Still.
“I’m sorry I hit you.”
“Thank you.”
“I should never have done that.”
“No.”
“I’m not going to say I was stressed.”
“Good.”
“I was stressed.”
She almost smiled through tears.
“I know.”
“But that doesn’t matter.”
“It matters as context.”
I said.
“Not permission.”
Emily nodded.
Daniel looked toward me.
Then down.
I continued.
“You also told me you wished your father were there instead of me.”
Emily covered her face.
“I know.”
“That hurt more.”
“I know.”
“No.”
I looked at her.
“You know it was hurtful.”
“You do not know what it felt like.”
She lowered her hands.
I swallowed.
“For four years I have tried to be both parents.”
“That was impossible.”
“But I tried.”
“I thought paying for this wedding was something your father and I were still doing together.”
My voice broke.
“So when you said you wished he were there instead of me…”
I stopped.
Emily cried.
“I wanted him there too.”
“I know.”
“That is not why I said it.”
“I know.”
“I said it because I knew it would hurt you.”
There.
Specific.
Ugly.
Useful.
I nodded.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
Silence.
Then I said:
“Now I owe you some apologies.”
Emily looked surprised.
Daniel too.
I almost laughed.
“That expression is insulting.”
“Sorry.”
Emily whispered.
I continued.
“I did not sabotage your wedding.”
“I did not fake messages.”
“I did not cancel your honeymoon.”
“I did not write that email.”
“But I did use money to make my opinions heavier.”
Emily stared.
I looked toward the floor.
“I told myself I was being generous.”
“I was.”
“Sometimes.”
“I was also keeping score.”
“No.”
Emily said softly.
I looked up.
“Yes.”
“I knew exactly what every item cost.”
“I brought those numbers into arguments.”
“I reminded you what I was paying whenever I felt excluded.”
“You asked for a band.”
“I said it was too expensive.”
“You chose it anyway.”
“I paid.”
“Then later, when you and I fought about the guest list, I said, ‘Funny how my money is welcome even when my opinion isn’t.’”
Emily closed her eyes.
She remembered.
I continued.
“That was not a gift.”
“Not in that moment.”
“It was leverage.”