Chương 4
“That sounds accurate.”
“She also said everyone touches your stomach.”
“Also accurate.”
He frowned at my belly.
Then he moved his hands behind his back as if I had accused him personally.
“I’m not going to.”
“Thank you.”
He tightened one final screw and tested the lock.
“Better.”
I paid him.
Before leaving, he handed me two extra keys.
“You got somebody nearby?”
“Yes.”
It came out too quickly.
He nodded anyway.
After he left, I realized the answer was mostly a lie.
Marcus lived forty minutes away.
My closest friend, Natalie, was in Portland helping her father after knee surgery.
My mother had been dead for nine years.
My father had responded to my pregnancy announcement with a thumbs-up emoji and a phone call three days later because he had been “in meetings.”
Caleb’s family had filled empty spaces in my life so gradually that I had mistaken occupation for belonging.
At seven fifteen, I turned my phone back on.
Thirty-two messages arrived.
Most were from Caleb.
Several were from Diane.
Brooke had sent only one.
YOU HAVE LOST YOUR MIND.
I opened Diane’s messages first.
The early ones were confused.
The later ones were not.
CLAIRE, ANSWER YOUR HUSBAND.
THIS IS CHILDISH.
YOU ARE PUTTING CALEB’S BUSINESS AT RISK.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT MARCUS HAS BEEN TELLING YOU, BUT YOU NEED TO REMEMBER THAT MARRIAGE IS A PARTNERSHIP.
The final message had arrived twelve minutes earlier.
CALL ME BEFORE YOU DO SOMETHING YOU REGRET.
I deleted nothing.
Instead I took screenshots and added them to the folder Marcus had told me to maintain.
Then I called Natalie.
She answered with, “If this is about whether swollen ankles are normal, I’m going to start charging.”
I covered my eyes with one hand.
“It’s not.”
Her tone changed immediately.
“What happened?”
I told her.
Not gracefully.
I started with the bank account, jumped backward to the tablet, forgot to mention the house until later, then had to explain why Caleb was on vacation without me.
Natalie interrupted frequently and swore with increasing creativity.
When I finished, she was quiet.
“That’s all?”
I stared at the phone.
“What do you mean, that’s all?”
“I mean, are you done telling me what happened, or is there another insane thing you forgot in the middle?”
“I think that’s all.”
“Okay.”
She breathed out.
“Then I’m going to say something you won’t like.”
“Great.”
“You should not be alone.”
“I’m fine.”
“That sentence is why I said you wouldn’t like it.”
“My doctor said everything looks normal.”
“I’m not talking about your cervix, Claire.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
Natalie did too.
The laugh lasted only a second, but it loosened something in my chest.
“My dad has a nurse coming tomorrow,” she said.
“I can get a flight.”
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking permission.”
“You’re not leaving your father.”
“He has spent seventy-three years refusing help from anyone and two weeks milking a knee replacement like he survived Normandy.”
“I heard that,” a male voice shouted faintly in the background.
Natalie lowered her voice.
“He heard that.”
“I gathered.”
“I’m coming.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Claire.”
“I need to do this myself.”
She did not answer for a moment.
“That is a very different sentence from saying you need to be alone.”
I picked at a loose thread on the sofa cushion.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I hated when she did that.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Morning.”
“Fine.”
“And if you have contractions that become regular, bleeding, your water breaks, decreased movement, or anything feels wrong, you call your doctor, not me.”
“I know.”
“Say it.”
“Natalie.”
“Say it.”
“I’ll call my doctor.”
“Good.”
Then, because she understood me better than most people, she added, “And don’t clean the guest rooms.”
I looked toward the staircase.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were absolutely going to.”
“I was considering changing the sheets.”
She made a noise of disgust.
“Go lie down.”
After we hung up, I walked upstairs and passed the abandoned laundry basket on the landing.
I left it exactly where it was.
The next morning, Marcus called before eight.
“Caleb has retained counsel.”
I was pouring cereal into a bowl.
The box slipped slightly in my hand.
“That was fast.”
“Not particularly.”
“Do you know who?”
“Yes.”
Something about his tone made me stop.
“Who?”
“Evan Price.”
I knew the name.
He had attended our wedding.
More importantly, he had represented Mercer Ridge during a subcontractor dispute eighteen months earlier.
“He knows company information.”
“Some.”
“Can he represent Caleb against me?”
“That depends on what information he had access to and what the dispute becomes.”
The legal answer irritated me.
“So maybe.”
“Maybe.”
I pushed the cereal bowl away.
“What does Caleb want?”
“His attorney’s email says he disputes the account restrictions, claims several expenditures were authorized verbally, and requests immediate access to the property.”
I looked toward the front door.
“Authorized by who?”
“That is among the questions.”
“And the house?”
“He claims it is the marital residence.”
“It is.”
“Yes.”
I waited.
Marcus sighed.
“You keep hoping I’ll tell you ownership makes everything simple.”
“I would appreciate it.”
“I know.”
He paused.
“But Caleb has lived there for three years, so we follow the process rather than creating unnecessary risk.”
I rubbed the side of my stomach where the baby had begun moving.
“What about when he comes back?”
“We deal with what happens when he comes back.”
It was not comforting.
It was probably why I trusted him.
After the call, I checked the family’s vacation posts.
I told myself I was looking for evidence of timing and location.
That was partly true.
Diane had posted a photograph from dinner the night before.
Brooke was smiling beside her.
Caleb sat at the edge of the frame, staring at his phone.
The caption read NOTHING MATTERS MORE THAN FAMILY.
I almost closed the app.
Then I noticed the man seated beside Caleb.
May you like
He was partly turned away, but I recognized him.
Evan Price.
