She had already resolved to forgive him, but the universe had conspired against that probability.  It was the first time that she’d seen him so vulnerable, so repentant.  It was almost enough to make her forget how his hands probably touched her in the way that she knew so well.  She remembered his confession and how he promised that it meant nothing to him.  She was just a distraction, a piece that meant nothing to him except for that moment and then it was over.

It wasn’t quite clear who he was trying to convince, but she wanted to believe that he meant it.  That everything would remain unchanged.  He promised that they could move pass it and that it could be viewed as the blessing that they’d prayed for so many years.  So, she decorated that room with love and the promise of better days ahead.  She took exacting care in picking every piece of furniture and in selecting bright primary colors for the one who would lighten the darkness that surrounded them.

And then she waited for the call from him to tell of the birth.  Even as the hours passed and mocked her, she waited.  She ran back to the back of the house to the room to make sure that everything was in order and in its place when she heard the message on the answering machine.  As she held the little pink mary janes in her hands, she realized that there would be no need to keep them.  He had made his choice.