I had wanted to be angry at them.
Thomas was asking me to understand them.
Then I reached the next paragraph.
You once told me you wanted nothing I had not freely given. So I am giving you something freely now.
Not because I married him.
Not because I cared for him.
But because fifty-three years earlier, he had promised a seventeen-year-old girl something.
The diamond ring.
Mr. Bennett returned to the limousine and brought me a dark-blue box.
But Thomas instructed me to finish the letter first.
Then he wrote about the house.
The large white colonial Thomas and Evelyn had purchased in 1988.
Before Evelyn died, they had placed the property into a trust.
Thomas wrote:
There is something in that house that belongs to you, Margaret. It has belonged to you since 1974.
That made no sense.
In 1974, Thomas and I had already separated.
Then I unfolded the second page.
