We don't get to determine when another person will be ready to forgive us, or if they ever will. Several years into my recovery, I decided that it was time to ask my mother to forgive me for something that I had done in my addiction that I knew had devastated her.
Long story short, I had packed up my then-two-year-old daughter and moved over twelve hundred miles away from my parents without a word to them. My mom was shattered.
Years later, she and I found our way back to each other tentatively, and I felt it was time to make an amends and ask for forgiveness. I went to her house, sat her down, and started to explain that I had something I needed to ask her forgiveness for.
She looked me straight in the eye and calmly said, "You can apologize all you want, but if it's about the time you ran away to the Yukon with my granddaughter, save your breath. I can't forgive you for that." I was flabbergasted and simply replied, "Well, that is what this is about, so let's forget about it." And we did, for a while.
About ten years later, when she was dying, she told me she forgave me. We can't schedule when other people will be ready to forgive us.