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❝ it's a room full of elijah's. ❞
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FORGIVENESS IS A TRICKY THING IN THE WAY THAT APOLOGIES CAN BE. Are you apologizing because it makes you feel better or because it will make the other person feel better? Are you sorry for what you have done or are you simply trying to placate the other person who believes you should be sorry for the thing you feel completely justified in having done? Who is the apology for?
There is a term they use in therapy: forced forgiveness. Sometimes people feel that in order to get past trauma, they need to forgive whoever caused the damage—the relative who sexually assaulted them, the burglar who robbed their house, the gang member who killed their child. They are told by well-meaning people that until they forgive, they will hold on to that anger. Granted, for some, forgiveness can serve as a powerful release—you forgive the person who wronged you, without condemning their actions, and it allows you to move on. But too often people feel pressured to forgive and then end up believing that something is wrong with them if they can't quite get there—that they aren't enlightened enough or strong enough or compassionate enough. But the truth is that you can have compassion without forgiveness. There are many ways to move on and pretending to feel a certain way is not one of them.
"Enola—" Klaus began. He stepped into the study with a package of sorts in hand. His eyes flickered around the room to find Enola seated on the couch with a fashion magazine in hand while Freya did yoga poses in the middle of the room. He blinked. "What are you doing here?"
"I live here," Freya peeled a single eye open in response.
"Yes, obviously." Klaus scoffed, rolling his eyes in disdain. "I just hadn't realized you were back from wherever it is you go to when you leave. Perhaps I was thrown off by the lack of strange gentlemen callers perusing the contents of the refrigerator this morning."
"Your concern for my whereabouts is touching," Freya chuckled in amusement, continuing her stretches as if there had been no interruption.
"I simply want to know who is here at any given moment. I hardly think that is too much to ask." Klaus said simply. He paused to look down at the package in his hands. "That reminds me." He set the package on the coffee table in front of his wife. "Someone dropped this off for you."
"Ooh," Freya teased. "Secret admirer?"
"I doubt it," Enola scoffed. She reached for the card that was tapped on top of the box. She read the fancy writing before opening the envelope. "It's some sort of invitation." She flipped the card open before reading it out loud. "I would like to formally invite you, Enola Mikaelson, to my home for a Masquerade Ball hosted by the Strix—Tristan."
