Chapter 10 - The Balance of the Ledger
Later that night, after the dinner had cleared and the guests were dancing beneath the string lights on the deck, I walked down to the edge of the sandy beach alone.
The ocean waves lapped rhythmically against the shore, cool and rhythmic. The moon cast a bright silver path across the dark water.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small, smooth white stone I had picked up off the ground outside the hotel three years ago—the night I left Vanessa standing in her ruined veil.
I had kept that stone in my desk drawer for three years as a reminder of the night I decided to stop being a victim.
I looked at the stone in my palm.
Then, with a long, powerful swing of my arm, I hurled it far out into the dark ocean waves. It splashed quietly into the sea, sinking down into the deep, dark water, gone forever.
"Daniel?" a soft voice called from behind me.
I turned around. Sarah was walking down the wooden stairs, holding a shawl around her shoulders, with my mother walking smoothly beside her—no cane, no limp, her arm linked comfortably with Sarah's.
"What are you doing out here in the dark, my son?" Eleanor asked warmly, coming up to stand beside me.
"Just closing an old account, Mom," I smiled, wrapping one arm around Sarah’s waist and pulling my mother close with the other.
"Is the balance clear?" Sarah asked, resting her head against my chest.
May you like
I looked at the woman I loved, then at the mother who had given me everything, and finally out at the vast, peaceful horizon ahead of us.
"The balance isn't just clear, Sarah," I whispered, kissing her forehead as the ocean breeze carried our laughter into the night. "We're completely in the black.
