I called Robert Mensah on a Sunday.Not because I was ready. I want to be honest about that. I called him because I had spent a week sitting with the weight of his existence and had arrived at the point where the sitting was costing more than the doing.He answered on the second ring."Aria," he said. Like he had been waiting."I have questions," I said. "Not today. But I want you to know I am going to ask them and I need you to be willing to answer all of them. Not the clean version. All of it.""Yes," he said. "Whatever you need.""I'm not forgiving you," I said. "I want to be clear about that. I do not know yet what I am doing. But I am not starting from forgiveness.""I understand," he said."Good," I said. "I will call you."I hung up.Damien was in the kitchen when I came out. He had been there since morning, doing the Sunday cooking thing he had started three weeks ago — badly but with complete commitment, which I had learned was the most Damien thing about him. He approached t
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