Chapter 9 - THE HOUSE THAT HELD HER MOTHER'S LETTERS
The cottage had belonged to Nora's mother for thirty years.
It was full of old furniture, faded photographs, and boxes nobody had opened since her death.
One afternoon, Nora found a wooden chest beneath the stairs.
Inside were letters.
Dozens of them.
Some written to Nora.
Others to her mother's younger self.
Nora sat on the floor and began reading.
Her mother had written about marriage.
About disappointment.
About the years she'd spent trying to make everyone else happy.
One letter stopped Nora completely.
My darling girl,
If you ever find yourself begging someone to see your worth, remember that love is not supposed to require an audience.
You are not difficult to love.
You are simply not meant to disappear inside someone else's life.
Nora pressed the paper against her chest.
And cried.
Not because she missed Evan.
Because she missed the woman she'd been before she began measuring her worth by whether he came home.
That evening, she called Adrian.
“I've thought about your offer.”
He sounded pleased.
“And?”
“I'd like to accept.”
“Wonderful.”
She smiled.
“But I have conditions.”
He laughed.
“Good.”
“I need flexible hours. And I want the position evaluated on its merits.”
“Agreed.”
“And I don't want special treatment because of my marriage.”
Adrian paused.
Then said, “Nora, I offered you the job because you're good at it.”
May you like
She closed her eyes.
For the first time in years, she believed someone meant those words.
