Maya’s eyes softened, understanding the turmoil Eleanor must be feeling. “He wanted to, Mrs. Whitmore. He talked about it often. But he worried about your reaction. He didn’t want to disappoint you, didn’t want you to think less of him.”
Eleanor’s heart ached. She had always believed she fostered a relationship with Jonathan built on openness and trust. But fear of her judgment had kept him from sharing the most significant part of his life. It was a realization that pierced deeper than any sorrow she had known.
“I wish he had known,” Eleanor began, her voice breaking, “that nothing could have made me love him less. I wish he had known that he and his happiness meant more to me than any societal expectation or prejudice.”
