Chapter 18 - A Letter from the Past
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I picked up the white card, opening it under the bright afternoon sun.
The handwriting was neat, clear, and unmistakably Nathan’s:
Rebecca,
I made this in a local pottery class I’ve been taking on my weekends. It’s not meant as an insult, nor is it meant to bring back painful memories. It’s meant as a reminder.
A reminder that water can be used to humiliate, or it can be used to wash away the mud of the past so something new can grow.
You were right about everything. I hope your life is full of light.
— Nathan
I held the card for a moment, feeling no surge of anger, no sting of pain, and no lingering regret. The ghost of the man who had tried to break me had finally lost his power completely.
I set the card aside, lifted the handcrafted ceramic basin out of the crate, and carried it inside the house.
May you like
I placed it on the wide windowsill of my new art studio, right in the bright sunlight, and filled it to the brim with fresh soil. Then I planted a cluster of yellow rose seeds right in the center.
It was no longer a symbol of weakness. It was a vessel for growth.
