For a few seconds, I stared at her.
Three days earlier, I had wanted her embarrassed.
Now that I had finally beaten her at her own game, the victory felt empty.
“Nathan,” I said quietly. “End the stream.”
He did.
An hour later, we returned to Patricia’s house.
This time, we knocked.
Nathan removed our emergency key from her keyring.
“You visit when you’re invited,” he told her. “No more walking into our home.”
Patricia nodded.
Then she looked at me.
“I’m sorry, Claire.”
I waited for the usual ending.
“I’m sorry you misunderstood.”
“I’m sorry you were offended.”
“I’m sorry, but…”
Nothing came.
Just the apology.
“Thank you,” I said. “That’s a start.”
On the drive home, Nathan reached across the console and took my hand.
“You okay?”
I thought about all the mornings I had cleaned harder because Patricia might visit. All the dinners I had worried over. All the tiny criticisms I had carried long after she went home.
Then I realized something.
Her approval had never been a prize I could earn.
“I’m done trying to impress your mother.”
Nathan smiled.
“Good.”
And for the first time in eight years, I meant it too.
