There was a brief silence.
My stomach tightened.
I waited for the disappointment, the sigh, the subtle reminder that family should always come first.
Instead, Claire answered calmly.
“Okay, Mom. Get some rest. We’ll figure something else out.”
After I hung up, I sat perfectly still for a long time.
I waited for the guilt to arrive.
Of course, it came.
Old habits don’t disappear overnight.
But this time, guilt didn’t take up the entire room inside me.
Beside it, there was something else.
A small, fragile sense of pride.
Like a green shoot growing between two stones.
I had said no.
And my daughter still loved me.
The world hadn’t ended.
Nobody had abandoned me.
And I had finally given myself permission to rest.
A Second Trip to Brittany
About a month later, Claire called me one evening.
Her voice had that slightly nervous but cheerful tone people use when they’re preparing to suggest something important.
