I gave them three days. I remained polite, even when every part of me wanted distance. One evening, I sat through dinner with them and barely said anything. Darren, however, seemed uncomfortable throughout most of the visit. On the second night, he found me alone by the water and quietly apologized for the things Margot had said about me over the years. He hadn’t been pushed into it, and there was no audience. I accepted the apology because it felt honest.

Margot and I never argued. We simply moved around each other carefully, both of us understanding that something between us had changed permanently. There was no dramatic confrontation and no final speech. By the time their three days were over, the house felt lighter. I realized that sometimes distance doesn’t need anger to become permanent. Sometimes people simply reach the end of what they can give each other.