Chapter 22
ARTHUR'S LAST LETTER
Arthur was released from prison three months later.
Eleanor received the news while walking through the pediatric wing.
She stopped.
Arthur was free.
After everything that had happened, she didn't know how she felt.
Marcus approached.
“You don't have to see him.”
Eleanor nodded.
“I know.”
“Then don't.”
She looked at him.
“I need to.”
Arthur was waiting outside the hospital.
He looked older.
Thinner.
But different.
When he saw Eleanor, he didn't smile.
He simply lowered his eyes.
“I don't expect forgiveness.”
“Good.”
Arthur nodded.
“I deserve that.”
Eleanor stood several feet away.
“Why did you come?”
He reached into his coat.
He handed her an envelope.
“Your father gave this to me before he died.”
Eleanor stared at him.
“Why didn't you give it to me before?”
Arthur swallowed.
“Because I was a coward.”
She opened the letter.
Eleanor,
If Arthur gives you this letter, then he has finally decided to tell the truth.
I knew he had betrayed you.
I knew he was afraid.
But I also knew there was still a part of him that wanted to protect Chloe.
That does not excuse him.
Nothing excuses betrayal.
But people are more complicated than their worst decisions.
Eleanor's eyes filled.
She continued reading.
You may hate him.
You may forgive him.
You may do neither.
That choice must belong to you.
But don't let anger become the thing you inherit from me.
Eleanor lowered the letter.
Arthur was crying.
“I should have protected Chloe,” he whispered.
“Yes.”
“I should have protected you.”
“Yes.”
“I can't change that.”
“No.”
He nodded.
“But I can spend the rest of my life helping children.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“You don't get to buy forgiveness.”
“I know.”
“Then don't ask for it.”
Arthur nodded.
“I won't.”
Eleanor walked away.
At the hospital entrance, she stopped.
She turned back.
“Arthur.”
He looked up.
“There is a place for volunteers at the foundation.”
Arthur stared.
“Why?”
“Because you said you wanted to help.”
His eyes filled with tears.
“I do.”
“Then start there.”
She walked away.
Marcus was waiting.
“You forgave him?”
Eleanor shook her head.
“Not yet.”
“Then why?”
She smiled faintly.
“Because forgiveness isn't a gift to him.”
May you like
She looked toward the children's wing.
“It's something I might someday give myself.”
