I Pretended to Be the Daughter of an Elderly Man I Met by Chance – Days Later, His Lawyer Found Me and Said, ‘You Walked Straight Into His Trap’

Anger did not make love false.

I pulled a third chair toward the table.

“No,” I said. “He does not get to decide who belongs here.”

Eric looked at the chair for a long moment.

Then he moved over and sat beside me.

I looked at the envelope.

Before the doors opened, Eric reached into his briefcase and placed Nathan’s unopened letter to him on the table.

“I still haven’t read it,” he said.

“Why not?”

“Because I know what he’ll ask me to forgive.”

I looked at the envelope.

I pushed the letter back toward him.

“Maybe he won’t.”

“He always wanted the ending before doing the work.”

That sounded so much like my own anger that I almost laughed.

I pushed the letter back toward him.

“You don’t have to read it today.”

He nodded and slipped the letter into his coat instead of the briefcase.

Eric studied me.

“Did you read yours all at once?”

“No. I stopped three times.”

“Did it help?”

“It hurt differently each time.”

For once, neither of us let Nathan set the pace.

He nodded and slipped the letter into his coat instead of the briefcase.

It was a small distinction, but I noticed it.

For once, neither of us let Nathan set the pace.

We sat quietly until Rosa turned on the lights, and the windows reflected three chairs together.

We left Nathan’s slice in the center of the table.

Rosa unlocked the front door.

Families from the hospice began entering.

We left Nathan’s slice in the center of the table.

Rosa looked at the three chairs, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned with one more fork.