Chương 4
I typed again.
Why send this to me?
The answer took almost a minute.
Because yesterday I watched him leave you at the hospital.
And because I know you are the person whose trust he cared about most.
I frowned.
I did not know Evan.
I had never heard his name.
But something about that sentence bothered me.
Not because it sounded false.
Because it sounded like someone who had been carrying guilt.
I called my father.
He answered on the second ring.
"Did you sleep?"
"No."
A pause.
He knew immediately something was wrong.
"What happened?"
"I received a document about Dominic."
The silence on the other end was brief.
But it changed.
"Send it to me."
I did.
He did not say anything while opening it.
I could hear him typing.
My father was not someone who reacted quickly.
He built companies because he understood that decisions made from emotion often created larger problems.
That was why his silence worried me.
After almost two minutes, he spoke.
"This is real."
I closed my eyes.
"Did you know?"
"No."
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly to be rehearsed.
"Brooks Ventures handled thousands of applications.
I do not personally approve every investment."
I looked down.
"But he knew me."
"Yes."
"He knew who I was before he signed this."
Another pause.
"I need to look into the timeline."
I hated that sentence.
Not because it was wrong.
Because it meant there was more I did not know.
"Dad."
"I'm here."
"Did you ever think he married me because of this?"
The question was quiet.
Almost embarrassing.
My father did not answer immediately.
That hurt more than if he had.
"I don't know," he finally said.
I swallowed.
"I hate that answer."
"I know."
His voice softened.
"But I would rather give you the truth than comfort you with something I cannot prove."
I looked at the ceiling.
That was my father.
Even when I wanted him to tell me everything would be fine, he refused to lie.
After we ended the call, I sat in the guest room for a long time.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
I used to think quiet meant peace.
Now I understood that sometimes quiet was where doubts grew.
Around noon, Dominic arrived.
My father’s security team notified me before letting him approach the house.
That alone made something inside me ache.
A few months earlier, Dominic had walked through this front door carrying flowers.
Now he needed permission.
I met him outside.
He looked exhausted.
His expensive suit was wrinkled.
His hair was messy.
For the first time in years, he looked like someone who had not slept.
"I need to talk to you."
I folded my arms.
"About what?"
His eyes moved briefly toward the house.
"Not here."
"Then where?"
He exhaled.
"I don't know."
That answer surprised me.
Because Dominic always knew.
He always had a plan.
A presentation.
An explanation.
Seeing him uncertain should have made me feel better.
It did not.
"Audrey, yesterday was wrong."
I waited.
"I know that now."
"You knew yesterday."
He looked away.
"No."
I almost laughed.
"You knew it was wrong when you drove away."
His face tightened.
"I thought I could fix it later."
There it was.
The truth.
Not that he did not care.
That he thought he had time.
People often hurt others because they believe apologies are always waiting for them.
"I was embarrassed," he said.
I looked at him.
"Embarrassed?"
"Your father being there.
The security.
Everything."
He rubbed his hands together.
"I felt like I walked into a room where everyone already decided I was the villain."
I stared at him.
"You left me outside a hospital."
"I know."
"You made me feel like a burden."
"I know."
"You are still talking about how you felt."
The words stopped him.
Because they were true.
His expression changed.
A small crack appeared.
"I don't know how to fix this."
That was the first honest thing he had said.
I believed him.
But belief was not the same as forgiveness.
"You need to answer something for me."
He looked at me.
"Did you know about Brooks Ventures before you married me?"
His face went still.
Too still.
And that was when I knew.
Not everything.
But enough.
"Audrey..."
I felt my stomach drop.
"Did you?"
He looked toward the driveway.
The hesitation lasted only seconds.
But those seconds answered the question.
"Yes."
The world became strangely quiet.
A bird landed on the fence beside us.
A car passed on the street.
Somewhere nearby, a lawn mower started.
Ordinary sounds.
A completely ordinary morning.
And my marriage changed forever in the middle of it.
"How long?"
Dominic closed his eyes.
"I found out six months before we got married."
I stared at him.
"Six months."
"I was going to tell you."
"But you didn't."
"No."
"Why?"
His jaw tightened.
"I was afraid."
The answer was almost too simple.
"Of what?"
He looked at me.
"For the first time in my life, I had something real."
I shook my head slowly.
"No."
He frowned.
"No?"
"You were afraid of losing something."
He did not respond.
"And you decided the way to protect it was by hiding the truth."
His eyes lowered.
The painful part was that I remembered the man he used to be.
The man who would have hated himself for this.
But somewhere along the way, protecting his own image became more important than protecting me.
"I never used your father," he said quietly.
I looked at him.
"I hope that's true."
His face fell.
Because he knew the difference between hoping and believing.
I stepped back.
"I need time."
"Aubrey."
"Stop calling me that."
He froze.
"My name is Audrey."
I turned toward the house.
And for the first time since I married him, I walked away without wondering if I was being unfair.
May you like
I walked into the house and closed the door behind me.
For several seconds, I kept my hand on the handle.
