He considered that for a moment.
“Does that mean we have to forgive them?”
I reached across the table and took his hand.
“No. Forgiveness is something you choose when you’re ready. It doesn’t mean you have to trust someone again, and it doesn’t mean you have to let them hurt you.”
He nodded slowly.
“Good. Because I don’t want anyone hitting you again.”
My throat tightened.
I pulled him into a hug.
“No one is going to get away with that again,” I whispered.
He rested his head against my shoulder.
Then, after a moment, he asked, “Can we paint my room blue?”
I laughed.
“What happened to the gray you wanted?”
“Blue is better.”
“Then blue it is.”
And just like that, we started talking about paint samples, new curtains, and whether his basketball posters would look better above the desk or beside the closet.
