Chapter 9 - The First Step Forward
Two days later, Mark drove to his childhood home alone. The grand mansion seemed less intimidating now, appearing more like a large, quiet house in need of warmth.
Eleanor opened the door herself. When she saw Mark standing there, her breath hitched slightly. "Mark."
"Hi, Mom," he said softly. "Can we talk?"
They walked into the study—the room where his father used to work. Mark sat in the chair across from his mother’s desk, taking a deep breath.
"I’m sorry for yelling at you during the dinner party," Mark began sincerely. "I was angry, but I should have handled it with more respect."
Eleanor looked down at her hands, her voice barely above a whisper. "You were right to defend your wife, Mark. I was... unkind to her. I have been unkind to her for a long time."
Mark looked at his mother, touched by her rare admission of fault. "Amy showed me that you were only trying to protect us in the only way you knew how. But Mom, I don't need protection anymore. I need a mother who lets us in."
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Tears glistened in Eleanor’s eyes—a sight Mark had not witnessed since his father's funeral. "I don't know how to be different, Mark. I've lived this way for so long."
"We’ll teach you," Mark said, leaning forward to take her hand. "Together."
