It was my apology, though I did not phrase it as one.

I could have said sorry a hundred times and it would have meant less than that single invitation, because sorry only addresses the past, and the invitation built a future.

I did not want Jacqueline to feel forgiven for her secret.

I wanted her to never feel she needed a secret with me again.

Jacqueline’s face crumpled with happiness.

“Are you sure you want me back so soon?” she asked.

“After all this?” “Every single Sunday,” I said, and I meant it with my whole heart.