At my sister’s wedding, my parents demanded i hand…

less lonely now that I wasn’t fighting for approval I would never get.

I didn’t need their forgiveness. I didn’t want their apology. I just needed them to stop.

And now they had.

I raised my wine glass toward my grandmother’s photo. The diamonds in my earrings, the ones I had repaired, the ones I wore again, caught the light.

My phone rang. Vincent, calling continue reading …