She had loved Tristan, and perhaps still did, but she no longer wanted to organize her life around assumptions that could not survive honest questions.

“I’m not asking you to take sides,” she told me.

“I wanted you to hear it from me instead of a family newsletter.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I participated in that dinner without understanding what it meant to you.”

“You weren’t responsible for the invitation’s hidden purpose.”

“I still wish I’d asked more questions.”

She sounded as if she had practiced saying that sentence.