Page 61 of The Weight of Her Silence
Caleb looked up, the pencil pausing between his fingers.
“That’s when we buried Dad in the sand up to his neck, right?”
Lila laughed softly.
“He didn’t move for an hour. Claimed he was ‘relaxing.’”
Nate chuckled.
“It was the most peaceful hour of that entire trip.”
They all looked at him. It wasn’t hostility in their eyes this time. Just distance.History. A chasm that used to be a bridge.
Lila met his gaze first, her smile dimming slightly.
“You did make a good sandcastle, though.”
“I tried,” Nate said quietly.
Ava turned a page in the album.
“Trying’s easier when you care.”
The words hung in the air. No one challenged them. Not even Nate.
Caleb went back to drawing. Lila reached for his free hand and held it, her touch delicate but steady.
“Today’s a good day,” she said, mostly to herself.
No one corrected her. Even though Ava had seen her mother shivering violently that morning. Even though Caleb had found her asleep on the bathroom floor last night, too tired to stand after brushing her teeth.
Still—they let her have it.
A good day.
A slow, aching, almost-normal day.
Nate sat on the floor again, close but not touching. Watching his children lean into their mother, and his wife glow softly in her weariness.
He wasn’t forgiven. He wasn’t trusted.
But he was there.
And today, that was enough.
???
The mornings were the hardest now. Lila barely made it down the stairs before the world tilted under her. Her breath came short.
Her legs shook. The weight of simply existing pressed heavier than anything Nate could lift for her.
She no longer argued when he reached for her arm to steady her.
Still, her touch was light.Distant. She accepted the help, not the man offering it.
He cooked oatmeal with cinnamon—because Ava said it was the only thing that didn’t upset her stomach. He filled the kettle before she could. Brought the blanket before she asked. There was no thank you. No warmth. Just tired eyes and a nod.
And Nate took it. Gratefully. Because it was more than he deserved.
