Chapter 7 - Spring Cleaning
By May, spring had fully bloomed across Columbus.
The flowerbeds in my front yard were bursting with red tulips and yellow daffodils, vibrant and alive against the fresh green grass. The scar on my cheek had faded to a thin, silver line—barely noticeable unless you knew where to look.
I spent Saturday morning working in the garden, wearing my favorite straw sunhat and garden gloves, digging my hands into the rich, warm earth.
My phone buzzed in my apron pocket. I pulled it out, expecting an email from Rachel regarding the final liquidation of Veritas Holdings.
Instead, it was an unknown local number.
I swiped and answered. “Hello?”
“Mom?”
The voice was quiet, hesitant, trembling slightly with a vulnerability I hadn't heard in years.
I didn't speak immediately. I let the silence stretch, feeling the solid, grounding warmth of the earth beneath my knees.
“Daniel,” I said evenly.
“I... I know I’m violating the spirit of the restraining order,” he rushed out, his voice cracking with emotion. “Not the legal one—Rachel cleared this call with the court first. She said I could leave a message. I just... I wanted to tell you I signed the divorce papers yesterday. Vanessa is gone. And... I started my first week of court-mandated counseling.”
I listened, holding the phone against my ear, letting his words hang in the autumn air.
“I don't expect you to forgive me, Mom,” Daniel whispered, a sob catching in his throat. “I was greedy, I was cruel, and I threw away everything you gave me for a pipe dream. But... I got a part-time job at a local warehouse. I’m renting a small studio apartment across town. I’m trying to rebuild my life from scratch.”
“Good, Daniel,” I said, my voice softening just a fraction, not out of weakness, but out of maternal closure. “Building your life from scratch is the only honest way to do it. Don't build it on someone else's foundation.”
“I won't,” he choked out. “Goodbye, Mom.”
“Goodbye, Daniel.”
May you like
I hung up the phone, slipped it back into my apron pocket, and looked down at the daffodil bulb resting in my palm.
I placed it gently into the dark soil, covered it over with earth, and patted it down firmly with my gloved hands.
