Chương 8
But it changed the shape of my anger.
And I hated that.
Because anger had been easier when it was simple.
“You should leave,” I said.
Grant looked at me.
Not surprised.
Just tired.
“I know.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
“You can’t stay here because you feel guilty.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“Then why are you here?”
He looked toward Noah.
The answer was obvious, but I needed him to say it.
“I want to know my son.”
The word my sounded strange.
Not possessive.
Almost like he was asking permission to use it.
I looked away.
“You should have known him from the beginning.”
“I know.”
“You missed the first eleven days.”
“I know.”
“You missed the first night he came home.”
His face changed.
A small reaction.
But enough.
“You missed the first time he smiled.”
Grant looked down.
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I do.”
The frustration rose in me.
“Knowing is not the same as changing.”
He nodded.
“I know that too.”
That answer stopped me.
Because there was nothing to fight against.
No excuse.
No argument.
Just a man accepting the damage he caused.
And somehow, that was harder.
Grant stayed for twenty minutes.
He did not ask to hold Noah.
He did not try to act like a father who had earned anything.
He sat in the chair beside the crib and watched him sleep.
At one point, he reached out and touched the edge of the blanket.
Then he pulled his hand back.
Like even that felt like something he had not earned.
When he left, he paused at the door.
“Claire.”
I looked up.
“If you decide you never want to forgive me, I understand.”
The sentence surprised me.
Because Grant had never been good at accepting things he could not control.
“But I need you to know something.”
I waited.
“I never stopped loving you.”
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was unfair.
People always thought love was the opposite of hurt.
It wasn’t.
Sometimes the people who loved you were the ones who knew exactly where to hurt you.
“I believe you,” I said.
His face changed slightly.
Like he had expected anger.
Not belief.
“But that doesn’t fix it.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
After he left, I locked the door.
Then I stood there with my hand on the lock longer than necessary.
The next morning, I received another message from Vanessa.
I almost ignored it.
Then I saw the words.
I need to tell you what Grant never told either of us.
I stared at the screen.
There was a time when seeing Vanessa’s name would have made my stomach twist with anger.
Now it made me tired.
That was worse.
I agreed to meet her.
Not because I trusted her.
Because I no longer trusted the story I had been given.
We met in a quiet hotel lounge downtown.
The irony was not lost on me.
A place built for secrets.
Vanessa arrived five minutes late.
That was the first normal thing she had done since I met her.
She looked different without the confidence she wore like armor.
“Thank you for coming.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“I know.”
I sat down.
“Everyone seems to know everything about me.”
She looked down.
“I deserve that.”
I studied her.
“Do you?”
Her eyes lifted.
“What?”
“You keep saying things like that.”
She gave a small, sad smile.
“Grant taught me that admitting fault is easier than actually changing.”
The comment caught me.
“You sound angry with him.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
Because she had loved him.
That was the obvious answer.
But Vanessa shook her head.
“Because I believed him.”
The honesty made me quiet.
She folded her hands.
“When I met Grant, he told me his marriage was over.”
“He told me that too.”
“I know.”
She looked embarrassed.
“I thought you were both staying together because of appearances.”
I looked away.
“Most people did.”
“That was convenient for him.”
“Yes.”
The waiter came by.
Neither of us ordered anything.
“I need to know something,” I said.
Vanessa nodded.
“Why did you recognize Noah?”
Her expression changed.
There it was.
The thing she had been avoiding.
“I didn’t recognize Noah.”
“Then what?”
She looked toward the window.
“I recognized the hospital bracelet.”
My heart slowed.
“What?”
“When I saw the baby, I noticed the tag on his carrier.”
I frowned.
“It was from St. Vincent’s.”
I felt a cold sensation move through me.
“That’s where Evan was treated.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
“I thought it was impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because Grant would never choose that hospital again.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
“What are you saying?”
Vanessa swallowed.
“I think Grant knew before today.”
My first reaction was denial.
“No.”
“He knew?”
“No.”
But the word did not sound convincing.
Vanessa leaned forward.
“Claire, when I asked him why he looked terrified, he didn’t say he was surprised.”
I stared at her.
“What did he say?”
She looked at me.
“He said, ‘Not again.’”
The phrase sat between us.
Not again.
I felt something inside me shift.
Because fear was one thing.
Guilt was another.
But recognition?
Recognition meant Grant had connected Noah to something before anyone else had.
“When did he know?” I whispered.
Vanessa shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“You were with him.”
“Not every hour.”
Her voice sharpened.
“I wasn’t his wife.”
The sentence hurt because it was true.
None of us knew Grant completely.
Not even the people closest to him.
I left the hotel with more questions than answers.
When I returned home, Grant was waiting outside again.
This time, I did not let him speak first.
“What does ‘not again’ mean?”
His face changed.
A small change.
But I saw it.
“Who told you?”
“Answer me.”
He looked away.
“Claire.”
“No.”
My voice became firmer.
“You don’t get to decide what I can handle anymore.”
The hallway was silent.
May you like
Finally, he said, “I knew.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
