Chapter 24 - No More SaintsSix months after Miles's birth, Evelyn invited Taylor and Marcus to North Carolina.

They almost declined.

Then Taylor decided she wanted Evelyn to meet Miles again in her new home rather than only within Andre's old one.

The trip became their first overnight travel since the crisis.

They booked a hotel.

One room.

Two beds.

Taylor laughed when they entered.

"Very romantic."

Marcus put down the diaper bag.

"Don't get excited."

"I wasn't."

"You look devastated."

"I'll survive."

The ease between them had returned enough for teasing.

At Evelyn's new house, the walls held family photographs.

Andre appeared in several.

Not every room.

Not every shelf.

Taylor noticed.

Evelyn caught her looking.

"I brought my son with me."

Taylor smiled.

"Just not the whole museum."

"Exactly."

After dinner, Evelyn brought out Andre's college yearbook.

Marcus surprised himself by looking through it.

There was Andre grinning with friends.

Andre wearing a terrible costume.

Andre with Taylor.

Marcus paused.

A handwritten caption beneath one photograph read:

Taylor says I'm impossible. She's correct.

Marcus laughed.

"What?" Taylor asked.

He showed her.

Taylor laughed too.

"He was."

Evelyn smiled.

"Finally, somebody remembers."

For the first time Marcus heard Taylor tell an unflattering Andre story.

"He once ignored me for an entire afternoon because I beat him at bowling."

Evelyn gasped.

"He told me you cheated."

"I knew it!"

They all laughed.

Marcus watched Taylor.

This was remembrance without worship.

It made him less threatened.

Later, while Miles slept in a portable crib, Evelyn spoke privately to Marcus.

"How are you?"

"Better."

"Marriage?"

"Better."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the answer I have."

Evelyn nodded.

"Don't stay because you think forgiving Taylor is noble."

"I won't."

"Don't leave because you think leaving proves self-respect either."

Marcus looked at her.

She smiled.

"I've been in therapy too."

"Apparently everybody is."

"Andre would've hated it."

Marcus laughed.

Then Evelyn grew serious.

"My son could be selfish."

Marcus listened.

"He could be wonderful too."

"I know."

"Taylor spent years protecting only the wonderful."

"She knows."

Evelyn looked toward Taylor across the room.

"Now she risks protecting only the bad because she's ashamed."

Marcus frowned.

"Meaning?"

"Sometimes after we tear down a saint, we build a villain."

Marcus understood.

Taylor had begun speaking harshly about her old choices and sometimes Andre himself.

Guilt could reverse idealization without producing accuracy.

"No more saints," Evelyn said.

Marcus smiled.

"No more villains either?"

"Exactly."

On the drive back to the hotel, Marcus repeated the conversation.

Taylor was quiet.

"She's right."

"Probably."

"I've been angry at Andre lately."

"Why?"

"For not being alive to fix any of this."

Marcus laughed softly.

"That seems unfair."

"Very."

At the hotel they put Miles to sleep.

Taylor sat on one bed.

Marcus sat on the other.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

"Currently?"

"Marcus."

He knew.

"Trying."

Taylor's eyes filled.

"Is that what this is?"

"Yes."

"Toward staying married?"

Marcus thought carefully.

"Toward seeing if staying married becomes something we both choose again."

Taylor nodded.

"That's enough."

Marcus looked at his wedding ring.

He had been wearing it daily for two months.

Not as proof.

As acknowledgment.

He crossed the small distance between beds.

Taylor watched.

Marcus sat beside her.

"I want to kiss you."

She exhaled shakily.

"Okay."

"You can say no."

"I don't want to."

Their first kiss after the revelation was quiet.

No dramatic music.

No instant repair.

Taylor began crying halfway through.

Marcus pulled back.

"Too much?"

"No."

"What?"

She wiped her eyes.

"I forgot what it felt like to be kissed without feeling like I was stealing something from somebody dead."

Marcus stared.

Taylor immediately looked ashamed.

"I'm sorry."

"No."

He touched her cheek.

"That's probably something we needed to know."

She nodded.

They kissed again.

Then stopped.

They slept in separate beds.

In the morning Marcus woke first.

Taylor was curled around a pillow.

Miles stirred.

Marcus lifted him from the crib.

"Morning, man."

The baby's legal name change had been reflected in the new birth certificate.

Miles Reed.

Marcus carried him toward the window.

Taylor woke.

She watched father and son silhouetted against sunrise.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

Marcus smiled.

"That he has no idea how much paperwork he's caused."

Taylor laughed.

Then Marcus added:

"And that someday this is going to be a story."

Taylor's smile faded.

"What will we tell him?"

"The truth."

"All of it?"

"When he's old enough for whatever parts are appropriate."

Taylor nodded.

Marcus looked at his son.

"We don't teach him that his first name was shameful."

"No."

"It was our mistake. Not his."

"Agreed."

Marcus kissed Miles's forehead.

Taylor watched.

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And in that hotel room, six months after a photograph nearly destroyed them, Marcus understood that protecting his son did not mean hiding the past.

It meant refusing to make Miles carry it.