Chapter 17 - Eleanor’s Last Letter
Eleanor Sterling died in prison at sixty-eight.
Cancer.
Leo received the call during a board meeting.
He paused.
Then finished the meeting.
Clara waited outside.
When he emerged, she asked, “You okay?”
“I don’t know.”
They returned to Newport.
A legal representative delivered Eleanor’s personal effects.
Jewelry.
Letters.
A journal.
And twenty unopened birthday cards addressed to Leo.
The same cards she had sent him over the years.
Prison officials had returned some after he declined them.
Others she apparently never mailed.
Leo placed them on the library table.
“I don’t want these.”
“Then don’t read them.”
“What if there is something important?”
Clara shrugged.
“Important is not the same as necessary.”
Leo looked at her.
“You’ve gotten philosophical.”
“I’m old.”
“You’re sixty-two.”
“Ancient.”
He smiled.
Then opened the final letter.
It was written three weeks before Eleanor died.
Leo,
I spent years writing apologies because I wanted you to give me something.
Forgiveness.
Relief.
Proof I was not the person everyone believed I was.
That made every apology another selfish act.
I am not writing this one for forgiveness.
I locked your door.
I removed your wheels.
I heard you calling.
I left.
Nothing Marcus did makes those choices smaller.
Nothing my childhood explains them.
Nothing Richard did excuses them.
I loved Arthur.
I envied Arthur.
I blamed Arthur.
And after he died, I punished you for surviving him.
That is the ugliest truth I know.
Leo stopped reading.
Clara said nothing.
He continued.
I do not know whether you will read this.
If you do, I want you to know one thing without asking anything in return.
You were never the burden.
We were.
Leo folded the letter.
He stared at the floor for a long time.
Then he cried.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Just tears.
Clara sat beside him.
He leaned his head against her shoulder.
At thirty, he no longer needed anyone to rescue him.
That did not mean he no longer needed comfort.
The next morning, Leo burned most of Eleanor’s letters.
He kept the last one.
May you like
Not because he forgave her.
Because it told the truth.
