Six months after the lockout, Megan finally returned to the house alone to offer a real apology that didn’t involve any excuses.
She sat on the porch with my mother and admitted that she had been blinded by her own fear and the empty promises of a man who was always chasing a shortcut.
“I was jealous of the way they looked at you, Gavin,” she admitted to me later that evening.
“You gave them a future and I felt like I was only giving them problems to solve,” she added with a hollow voice.
My parents eventually forgave her because that is what parents like mine do, but the trust was never the same.
The house is still there on the bluff, and the waves still crash against the stones with that same indifference they showed on the day of the lockout.
But now, there are cameras on the gates and a new security system that only three people in this world have the code for.
Peace is a beautiful thing, but as my father often says now, it is a thing that must be defended with a very strong lock.
