“Then after I knew you better.”
“Then I fell in love with you.”
“And the truth became harder.”
I put the letter down.
“No.”
Mr. Delgado stayed silent.
Anger started rising.
Not because Frank knew my mother.
Because he married me without telling me.
“Did he marry me because of the debt?”
Mr. Delgado answered carefully.
“I can’t tell you what Frank felt.”
I looked back at the letter.
Apparently Frank knew I would ask.
“No, Pat.”
“I did not marry you because of what I owed June.”
“If anything, the debt nearly made me walk away from you.”
“I was ashamed.”
But I loved you.
“I loved that you read the final page of mystery novels first and then lied about it.”
“I loved that you sang harmony even when nobody else was singing.”
“I loved that you hated my tomato plants but defended them from squirrels like they were your children.”
“I loved you.”
“The debt was history.”
“You were my wife.”
I started crying.
Frank had always complained about me reading endings first.
He used to hide new novels until I promised not to cheat.
The letter blurred.
Then came the part that made me angry all over again.
“I should have told Brad and Stephanie.”
“They knew their mother’s family had helped us financially when we were young, but they never knew about June.”
“When they started accusing you of wanting the house, I should have told them exactly whose sacrifice helped us keep it.”
“I didn’t.”
“Linda wanted the story kept private while she was alive because she felt ashamed that we had never repaid your mother completely.”
“After Linda died, I kept quiet because I had already kept quiet for so long.”
“Cowardice becomes habit surprisingly easily.”
“I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes.
That sounded like Frank too.
Mr. Delgado slid a glass of water toward me.
“What happens with the house?”
