Chapter 16 - Six Months
Lauren completed six months of therapy.
No missed sessions.
Parenting classes.
Anger-management work.
Individual counseling.
Supervised visits with Tyler.
The reports were cautiously positive.
She stopped blaming him during visits.
She accepted corrections.
She left when sessions ended.
She stopped contacting Mark outside approved channels.
Then came the review hearing.
Mark did not oppose expanding visitation.
That surprised me.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
He smiled sadly.
“But Tyler loves his mother.”
That truth was complicated.
Safety did not erase attachment.
The court approved short unsupervised daytime visits.
No overnights.
No travel.
Lauren cried when the judge announced it.
This time, she did not smile like she had won.
She looked terrified.
Maybe because responsibility finally felt real.
Before her first unsupervised visit, she asked Mark to meet publicly.
He agreed.
She apologized.
Not for the divorce.
Not for their entire marriage.
Specifically for calling him vindictive when he tried to protect Tyler.
Mark accepted the apology without forgiving everything.
That was healthy.
Then Lauren asked to see me.
I refused.
Not yet.
She accepted that too.
That mattered.
Mom struggled.
She wanted immediate family dinners.
Reunion.
Healing.
James stopped her gently.
“You cannot rush trust because discomfort makes you impatient.”
Mom looked embarrassed.
“You’re right.”
Christmas was five months away.
She asked whether Lauren could come.
I said:
“We’ll decide in December.”
For the first time, nobody argued.
That itself felt like progress.
Then one afternoon, Tyler came to our house.
He played on the floor with Emma.
She was nearly one.
He made her laugh by stacking blocks on his head.
I watched them.
Two children.
One too young to remember Christmas.
One old enough to remember too much.
Tyler looked at me.
“Aunt Sarah?”
“Yeah?”
“Mom said sorry about Emma.”
“I know.”
“Are you still mad?”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
Then smiled.
May you like
“That’s okay.”
Children sometimes understood boundaries better than adults.
