"Yes."
"For two years?"
"I kept trying to find another way."
I felt tears sting my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
"Every kind thing you did was part of this?"
His silence answered me.
That hurt more than I expected.
I had thought Mark was simply reserved. I had mistaken patience for decency.
"You knew I trusted you," I whispered.
"I did."
"And you used it."
He nodded.
"I'm sorry."
I stepped back.
"No. You're sorry you were caught."
I walked away before he could answer.
The yard took months to repair. Insurance covered some of the damage, and the city helped fill the excavation after the police released the property.
I planted new flowers the following spring.
Not roses.
I chose wildflowers instead. They were tougher. They spread without asking permission, and they returned even after harsh weather.
For a long time, I blamed myself for handing Mark that key.
