Chương 5
Natalie flinched.
“And you betrayed that.”
“I didn’t.”
“You locked her in a bathroom.”
“I panicked.”
“Because of a piece of paper?”
Natalie went quiet.
Ethan saw it.
The answer was yes.
Not because of the paper itself.
Because of what the paper might prove.
“What did you think Claire left?”
Natalie stared at him.
“I don’t know.”
“Then why were you afraid?”
She looked toward the office window.
Outside, guests walked across the lawn, unaware that the wedding they came to celebrate was falling apart inside.
“I thought she had left something about me.”
Ethan’s expression changed.
“Why would she?”
Natalie did not respond.
That was the moment he knew there was more.
Not a simple misunderstanding.
Not a single angry decision.
Something had been growing beneath the surface for a long time.
“What happened between you and Claire?”
Natalie sat down.
The fight seemed to leave her body.
“I was jealous.”
Ethan said nothing.
“I hated that she could walk into any room and people loved her.”
“That’s not unusual.”
“No.”
Natalie gave a small, bitter laugh.
“That’s the problem.”
She looked at him.
“I knew it was ugly.”
Her voice lowered.
“I knew it made me a bad friend.”
Ethan listened.
“She had everything I wanted.”
“Claire was dying.”
“I know.”
Natalie looked down.
“That made me feel worse.”
The honesty was uncomfortable.
It did not make her innocent.
It made her human.
And somehow that made everything harder.
“I was angry at someone who was already losing everything,” she said.
A tear formed but did not fall.
“I hated myself for it.”
Ethan remained silent.
“Then after she died, I thought maybe I could fix something.”
“What?”
Natalie looked toward the hallway.
“Sophie.”
The answer came quietly.
“I thought if I became important to her, maybe I could prove I wasn’t the terrible person I thought I was.”
Ethan stared at her.
The confession explained something.
Not everything.
But something.
“You were trying to replace Claire.”
Natalie shook her head quickly.
“No.”
Then slower.
“I didn’t mean to.”
That was the difference between intention and reality.
People often hurt others while chasing something they believed was good.
Ethan looked at the door.
At his daughter waiting outside.
At the broken music box that had forced the truth into the open.
“What else did Claire leave?”
Natalie did not answer.
Not immediately.
Then she whispered.
“A second letter.”
Ethan went still.
“Where?”
Natalie looked terrified again.
“Not with me.”
“Then where?”
She looked at him.
“In the house where Claire lived before she got sick.”
Ethan frowned.
“We never had another house.”
Natalie’s face changed.
A mistake.
A small one.
But enough.
Ethan noticed.
“Where?”
Natalie looked away.
And for the first time, Ethan understood that the music box was not the beginning of the secret.
It was only the first thing that had been found.
“Where?” Ethan asked again.
Natalie looked like she wanted to leave the room, but the door behind her was the only exit and she knew walking away would answer the question for him.
“An apartment,” she said.
Ethan stared.
“Claire had another apartment?”
Natalie nodded slowly.
“She rented it after her diagnosis.”
A strange feeling moved through him.
Not anger.
Not yet.
Something closer to grief.
Because Claire had spent years telling him she wanted fewer secrets between them.
And somehow, while he was driving her to appointments, sitting beside hospital beds, and believing they were facing everything together, she had created a place he knew nothing about.
“Why?”
Natalie looked uncomfortable.
“She needed somewhere quiet.”
“Quiet from what?”
Natalie did not answer immediately.
Outside the office, someone laughed loudly.
The sound felt wrong.
Like hearing a party happening in another world.
“She said she needed a place where she could think.”
Ethan rubbed his forehead.
“Claire was dying.”
“I know.”
“Why would she hide a place from me?”
Natalie’s eyes moved toward the family photographs on the shelf.
“I think she was afraid.”
“Of me?”
“No.”
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
Ethan noticed.
“Then of what?”
Natalie looked down.
“Of what would happen after she was gone.”
The words landed harder than he expected.
Because he had spent two years believing the hardest part of losing Claire was the moment she died.
He had not understood that grief could keep creating new losses.
“You knew about the apartment,” he said.
“Yes.”
“You went there.”
Natalie hesitated.
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
She looked away.
“Several.”
Ethan stepped back.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
“You went through her things.”
“I was helping.”
“Helping who?”
Natalie’s voice became defensive.
“Ethan.”
“No.”
He held up a hand.
“Answer.”
She looked hurt.
“I was helping Sophie.”
“By hiding things from me?”
“I didn’t know what Claire wanted you to know.”
“That wasn’t your decision.”
Natalie’s face tightened.
“I was there when she was afraid.”
“And I wasn’t?”
The question came out before he could stop it.
For a moment, the anger disappeared.
Because underneath everything was still a husband who missed his wife.
A man who wondered if he had failed the person he loved most.
Natalie saw it.
Her expression softened.
“You were there.”
She spoke quietly.
“You just weren’t always listening.”
Ethan looked away.
He hated that part of him believed her.
Not completely.
Not enough to excuse anything.
But enough to remember moments he wished he could redo.
Claire sitting at the kitchen table with untouched food.
Claire staring at medical bills.
Claire saying she was fine in a voice that sounded less convincing every time.
He had asked if she was sure.
She had said yes.
He had accepted the answer because he was tired.
Because he was scared.
Because sometimes love was not enough to make someone brave.
“Where is the apartment?” he asked.
Natalie took a breath.
“Downtown.”
“Address.”
She looked at him.
“You’re going there.”
“Yes.”
“Today?”
“Yes.”
Natalie shook her head.
May you like
“You can’t just walk into a place that belongs to someone who died.”
“It was my wife’s.”
