I’m not asking for forgiveness, Hannah. It’s too late for that. We’re both old women now. Even if Daniel hadn’t died, I would have been an incidental figure in your life. In both your lives. And for nearly as long. You might ask how I could know such a thing, the narrative of a story that didn’t occur. It’s not difficult. After all these years I know myself. As a writer, I was never going to allow more than a small space for others in my life. Daniel wanted more. You were my compromise. He still wanted more. It was inevitable where we were headed.
* * *
In case you think differently, I wrote a goodbye letter to him before you were born. Later I included it in one of my stories, Paula’s Persecution. There’s a man who plays guitar in the story. You shouldn’t mistake him for Daniel.
Paula’
