A sob was caught in my throat, and I swallowed it down. “I went away to college. It’s easier to think when someone isn’t in your ear all the time. I realized it wasn’t what I wanted, but it was too late. I couldn’t take Olive from her mother twice. I got sick not long after I started college. I thought it was the stress of everything. So, after a year at Dartmouth, I came home. That’s when it happened. Blaire took me to the doctor, and they told me I had developed endometriosis. That was my punishment for what I had done.”

Taylor shook his head, confused. “What does that mean?”

“I can’t have any more kids.”

His eyes fell to the floor as he thought about my words.

“I left my parents because I was surrounded by the things they’d promised, and I didn’t want it … any of it. I realized that anything I took from them was tarnished. It was all something I’d traded my own child for.”

Taylor reached out for me, but I pulled away.

“I just wanted to see her,” I said. “I can’t raise her. I accept that. But I can still be in at least one of her memories. Some days, I think that’s the only place where I want to exist.”

Taylor shook his head. “No wonder.”

“No wonder what?” I said, wiping my cheeks with my sleeve.

“Why you hate your parents so much.”

“I hate myself more,” I said, only just realizing this as I said the words aloud.

He clenched his jaw. “I can’t imagine someone making me feel so alone that I would feel like I had to give up my child.”

My eyes stared at nothing as I became lost in the memory. “I held her for just a few precious moments. Her entire body fit in my hands,” I said, showing Taylor how tiny she was. “I cried more than she did. I already loved her, and I knew I would never see her again. William wouldn’t come into the room. Blaire called him, but he stayed in the hall. He refused to even look at his grandchild, the thing threatening his entire campaign.”

I laughed once. “A baby. She was just a baby. Blaire whispered in my ear as I held Olive, as I cried over her, careful not to let the nurses hear. She said, ‘It’s called sacrifice. It’s the most loving thing you can do for her.’ And maybe she was right. Olive has a good life with Shane and Liza.”

“She does,” Taylor said.

“I’ve made it on my own—from nothing. I could have taken care of her. It would have been hard, but she was mine, and I was hers.” I sniffed. “I would have been a good mom.”

“No,” Taylor said. “You are a good mom.”