A few days passed without a visit.<\/p>\n
I kept my routine as steady as I could.<\/p>\n
I woke, made tea, checked my breathing, and handled the small tasks that needed attention.<\/p>\n
Sometimes I read.<\/p>\n
Sometimes I watched the street through the window.<\/p>\n
Sometimes I sat at the kitchen table and let my thoughts settle before deciding what to do next.<\/p>\n
Deacon and I exchanged a few short messages.<\/p>\n
He asked whether I was feeling better.<\/p>\n
I answered honestly.<\/p>\n
He told me he hoped we could talk soon.<\/p>\n
I said we could speak when we were both ready to have an honest conversation.<\/p>\n
I did not add anything else.<\/p>\n
It was strange to communicate with my son without trying to manage his reaction.<\/p>\n
Every time I sent a short message, I felt the urge to explain more.<\/p>\n
I wanted to soften the words.<\/p>\n
I wanted to add a reminder that I loved him.<\/p>\n
I wanted to reassure him that I was not trying to push him away.<\/p>\n
Sometimes I did tell him I loved him.<\/p>\n
But I stopped using those words as a way to erase the boundary I had just set.<\/p>\n
Love did not need to be followed by an apology for having feelings.<\/p>\n
One afternoon, I was sorting the mail when my phone rang.<\/p>\n
Deacon's name appeared on the screen.<\/p>\n
I answered.<\/p>\n
"Hi, Mom."<\/p>\n
"Hello."<\/p>\n
He asked whether I had a few minutes to talk.<\/p>\n
I said I did.<\/p>\n
He sounded more careful than he had during our earlier calls.<\/p>\n
He asked how I had been spending my time.<\/p>\n
I told him about the errands I had handled and the small things I had done around the apartment.<\/p>\n
He listened.<\/p>\n
For several minutes, we spoke about ordinary matters.<\/p>\n
He asked about a bill I had mentioned before.<\/p>\n
I told him I had taken care of it.<\/p>\n
He asked whether I was still having trouble with my breathing.<\/p>\n
I told him some days were better than others.<\/p>\n
Then he said he wanted to talk about what had happened.<\/p>\n
I sat straighter in my chair.<\/p>\n
"All right," I said.<\/p>\n
He began by saying that the argument had gotten out of hand.<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
He said he had been frustrated.<\/p>\n
I waited again.<\/p>\n
Then he said he was sorry I had been hurt.<\/p>\n
The wording bothered me, though I could not immediately explain why.<\/p>\n
It sounded as though my hurt had occurred separately from his action.<\/p>\n
"I appreciate you saying that," I told him. "But I need you to be clear about what you're sorry for."<\/p>\n
He was quiet.<\/p>\n
"I've already said I was wrong."<\/p>\n
"I know."<\/p>\n
"Then what is this?"<\/p>\n
"I'm asking you to acknowledge that you hit me."<\/p>\n
"I did hit you."<\/p>\n
"And that it was your choice."<\/p>\n
He exhaled sharply.<\/p>\n
"Mom, I don't know why we have to go over every word."<\/p>\n
"Because the words matter."<\/p>\n
He said he had not wanted to hurt me.<\/p>\n
I believed it was possible that he had not planned to strike me before the argument.<\/p>\n
But a lack of planning did not erase responsibility.<\/p>\n
"I am not asking you to tell me what you intended," I said. "I am asking you to acknowledge what you did."<\/p>\n
He went quiet again.<\/p>\n
For a moment, I thought the call might end.<\/p>\n
Instead, he said he knew he should not have hit me.<\/p>\n
The sentence was direct.<\/p>\n
It was more than he had said before.<\/p>\n
I felt my shoulders relax slightly.<\/p>\n
"Thank you for saying that," I replied.<\/p>\n
He asked whether that meant I was ready to come over.<\/p>\n
I closed my eyes.<\/p>\n
There it was again.<\/p>\n
He had acknowledged something important, but he wanted an immediate result.<\/p>\n
"I am glad you said it," I told him. "I still need time."<\/p>\n
"How much time?"<\/p>\n
"I don't know yet."<\/p>\n
He made a frustrated sound.<\/p>\n
I waited for the argument to begin.<\/p>\n
Instead, he asked what I needed from him.<\/p>\n
The question surprised me.<\/p>\n
I took a moment before answering.<\/p>\n
"I need to know that you can be angry without making me afraid of you."<\/p>\n
He did not interrupt.<\/p>\n
"I need to be able to tell you when something affects my health without being insulted or struck. And if you do something wrong, I need you to take responsibility without turning it into a fight about my reaction."<\/p>\n
He remained quiet.<\/p>\n
I could hear a faint sound in the background.<\/p>\n
Then he said he understood what I was asking.<\/p>\n
I wanted to believe him.<\/p>\n
But I had learned that understanding could not be measured by the words someone used during one conversation.<\/p>\n
It had to be seen in what they did afterward.<\/p>\n
"I hope you do," I said.<\/p>\n
He asked whether I was still angry with him.<\/p>\n
I thought about the question.<\/p>\n
"Yes, some of the time," I answered. "I'm also sad. I love you. Those feelings can all exist together."<\/p>\n
He did not respond immediately.<\/p>\n
Then he said he did not want me to hate him.<\/p>\n
"I don't hate you, Deacon."<\/p>\n
"Then why does it feel like you do?"<\/p>\n
"Because I am not pretending everything is fine."<\/p>\n
He was quiet.<\/p>\n
I could hear him breathing.<\/p>\n
I wanted to make the silence easier for him.<\/p>\n
I wanted to say something reassuring.<\/p>\n
Instead, I gave him time to think.<\/p>\n
Finally, he said he needed to go.<\/p>\n
We ended the call politely.<\/p>\n
I sat at the table for a long while afterward.<\/p>\n
I was not certain that anything had changed.<\/p>\n
But the conversation had been different.<\/p>\n
For once, I had not spent the entire call defending myself.<\/p>\n
I had told him what I needed.<\/p>\n
He had listened, at least for part of the conversation.<\/p>\n
That did not mean I was ready to visit him.<\/p>\n
It did mean I could recognize a small step without pretending it was the final one.<\/p>\n
I put the phone down and returned to the mail.<\/p>\n
There were two bills and an advertisement.<\/p>\n
I sorted them into their proper places.<\/p>\n
Then I took a cloth and wiped the table.<\/p>\n
The cardboard beneath the leg was still visible.<\/p>\n
I thought about replacing it with something more permanent.<\/p>\n
For years, I had treated temporary repairs as good enough because they allowed me to carry on.<\/p>\n
Sometimes that was sensible.<\/p>\n
Sometimes it only postponed the work that really needed doing.<\/p>\n
I did not yet know which description fit my relationship with Deacon.<\/p>\n
I knew that I could not repair it by myself.<\/p>\n
He would have to do his share.<\/p>\n
That evening, I did not check my phone every few minutes.<\/p>\n
I put it on the counter while I prepared dinner.<\/p>\n
I ate at the table and cleaned up afterward.<\/p>\n
When the phone finally lit up, I finished washing my hands before picking it up.<\/p>\n
The message was from Deacon.<\/p>\n
He said he had been thinking about our conversation.<\/p>\n
He wrote that he knew he had hurt me and that he should not have done it.<\/p>\n
I read the message slowly.<\/p>\n
It was not everything I needed to hear.<\/p>\n
But it was a clearer acknowledgment than I had received before.<\/p>\n
I replied that I appreciated him taking the time to think about it.<\/p>\n
Then I stopped.<\/p>\n
I did not promise a visit.<\/p>\n
I did not declare that everything was repaired.<\/p>\n
I let his words stand on their own.<\/p>\n
Later, as I prepared for bed, I felt a mixture of hope and caution.<\/p>\n
I wanted our relationship to improve.<\/p>\n
I wanted to be able to sit with my son again without remembering the slap every time he moved his hand.<\/p>\n
But I knew that trust would take more than a few messages.<\/p>\n
It would take time.<\/p>\n
It would take honesty.<\/p>\n
It would take behavior that matched the words.<\/p>\n
I turned off the light and lay down.<\/p>\n
For the first time in several days, I felt that a conversation with Deacon had left room for something better.<\/p>\n
I did not know whether he would follow through.<\/p>\n
I did not need to decide that night.<\/p>\n
A few days passed without a visit. I kept my routine as steady as I could. I woke, made tea, checked my breathing, and handled the small tasks that needed … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":40813,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-40832","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-insightdrama"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/40832","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=40832"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/40832\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":40852,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/40832\/revisions\/40852"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/40813"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=40832"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=40832"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/insightdrama.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=40832"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}