The grief in his voice stirred something I didn’t want to feel. “You didn’t leave me much choice.”

“I know what I did.”

“Do you?”

“I believed evidence that should never have outweighed your word. I let my mother stand inside our marriage. I was proud, angry, and afraid of looking foolish.”

He met my eyes. “I was wrong.”

For years I had wanted those words. Hearing them didn’t heal anything. It only revealed how deep the wound still went.