Chapter 8 - BERNICE COMES TO CLEAN
Bernice did not take the second engagement well.
At first.
She called Logan.
He told her before social media could.
“Abigail and I are engaged.”
Silence.
Then:
“Again?”
“Yes.”
“Do I get to attend?”
“That depends.”
“On her?”
“On you.”
Bernice did not like that answer.
Logan explained the condition.
Before invitations, Bernice needed to apologize directly to Abigail.
Not for “misunderstandings.”
Specifically.
Entering her home disrespectfully.
Demanding money.
Lying to Logan.
Taking property documents.
Planning a house purchase without consent.
Using wedding gifts deceptively.
Abigail expected refusal.
Three weeks later, the doorbell rang.
8:00 a.m.
Of course.
Abigail checked the camera.
Bernice.
This time she stood outside.
Shoes clean.
Hands empty.
She waited.
Abigail opened the door.
Bernice did not step inside.
“May I come in?”
That alone was a miracle.
“Yes.”
She removed her shoes.
Another.
Then looked at the floor.
“I owe you an apology.”
Abigail waited.
Bernice started poorly.
“I was under a lot of stress.”
Abigail raised an eyebrow.
Bernice stopped.
“Logan said I’m not allowed to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Explain before apologizing.”
Abigail almost smiled.
“Useful son.”
Bernice took a breath.
“I treated your home as if marrying my son gave me rights to it.”
Good.
“I demanded money that wasn't mine.”
Better.
“I lied to Logan about what happened because I expected him to defend me automatically.”
Very good.
“And I planned a wedding around what I wanted people in Oakhaven to think of our family.”
Her eyes filled.
Abigail said nothing.
Bernice looked at the living room.
“When Henry died, people talked.”
Logan’s father.
“They said he was a failure.”
She continued.
“I hated being the widow everyone pitied.”
There it was.
“I spent years wanting Logan to become proof that they were wrong about us.”
Abigail softened.
“That was too much to put on him.”
“I know.”
“And on me.”
“Yes.”
Bernice looked ashamed.
“I thought your money meant losing some wouldn't hurt.”
Abigail nodded.
“That's a common way people justify taking from people they think have more.”
Bernice flinched.
Accurate.
Then:
“I’m sorry.”
Abigail believed she meant it.
Belief did not require immediate intimacy.
“Thank you.”
Bernice glanced toward the entry closet.
Then startled Abigail by asking:
“Do you still have the mop?”
Abigail laughed.
“No.”
“I deserved that.”
“Yes.”
Bernice smiled weakly.
Then:
“Can I come to the wedding?”
Abigail considered.
“Yes.”
“Can I help?”
“No.”
Bernice nodded immediately.
Growth.
At the door, she turned.
“Abigail?”
“Yes?”
“I never thanked you for not putting the security footage online.”
Abigail looked at her.
“It wasn't content.”
Bernice frowned.
“What?”
“It was my life.”
That answer stayed with Bernice.
She left.
No mud.
No demands.
No tears used as weapons.
May you like
Just an older woman carrying her own embarrassment home.
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