Bernard held her hand and sat with her. "Did she say anything to hurt you?" he asked.
He looked apologetic and sad making Isadora sad. "No," she shook her head. If anything his mother said hurt her, it was his mother's fear for Bernard.
"She does not hate you, Isadora," Bernard said softly, holding her hand and rubbing it with his thumb. "She hates me…"
Isadora saw the profound sadness on his face, and her heart clenched. She wanted to tell him that his mother didn't hate him, but the truth was blaring at their faces and she didn't want to offer him empty solace.
She wanted to ask why, to understand the pain behind his words, but she held back, waiting for him to open up in his own time. She could see the weight of unresolved issues pressing on him, particularly the uncertainty of not having a home after she had asked him about it.
"I love you," she said, her voice filled with sincerity and warmth. That was the truth and that was enough.
