I waited.
“At least not now.”
“Are you all right?”
He leaned against the counter.
“I thought if she remembered enough, everything would come back.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“She said she spent seven years becoming somebody neither of us knows yet.”
He smiled sadly.
“Then she said I did too.”
“That sounds fair.”
“It is.”
They were not divorcing immediately.
They were not renewing vows either.
They decided to spend time together without demanding an outcome.
Coffee.
Walks.
Family dinners with Ava.
Counseling.
Maybe love would find its old shape.
Maybe it would find a new one.
Maybe they would eventually discover that being good parents and lifelong family mattered more than forcing themselves to recreate a marriage interrupted seven years earlier.
For the first time, Calvin seemed at peace with not knowing.
“So what does Ava think?” I asked.
“She wants everyone to stop discussing grown-up relationships and focus on Christmas cookies.”
