Something clearly wasn’t right about any of this.
Patrice made several calls on our behalf. A few days later, she told me Willa’s parents were genuinely willing to talk, though they wanted to move slowly through the whole process. “Maybe we should wait a while, before putting Callum and Willa in the same room together,” she suggested. “Let the adults involved work through the history first, properly.”
I stared at her. “The adults involved have already been deciding what those two kids can handle, for years running now.”
“Caroline—”
“I’m not asking you to throw them together without proper support,” I said firmly. “I’m asking you not to let ‘slowly’ quietly turn into another few lost years.”
Patrice stayed quiet a moment. “A supervised meeting,” I offered instead. “Only if Callum genuinely wants it, and Willa genuinely wants it too.”
Eventually, everyone involved agreed to it. Callum very nearly refused to go at all. “What if she doesn’t actually want me there?” “Then we’ll fully respect that.” “What if she hates me?” “Then you’ll survive hearing the actual truth, whatever it turns out to be.” “And if she’s simply forgotten me entirely?” I genuinely couldn’t answer that particular question for him.
