Chương 1
"""“What is she doing here?”
The tremor in Chloe’s voice made me turn from the baggage carousel before I understood who she meant.
Then I saw Samantha on her knees beside a yellow mop bucket, scraping something sticky from the tile with a plastic blade while hundreds of travelers moved around her as if she were part of the airport furniture.
For five years, I had managed to keep my ex-wife inside a sealed compartment of memory.
One look at her tore it open.
Her brown hair was twisted beneath a navy cap, and the gray airport uniform hung loosely from shoulders I remembered differently.
She looked thinner, older, and tired in a way that had nothing to do with age.
“Samantha,” I said.
She lifted her head.
Her hand stopped moving.
“Ethan.”
There was no surprise in her voice, which somehow unsettled me more than anger would have.
I glanced at the cleaning cart, then at her.
“I thought you were still with Halpern Financial.”
“I was.”
“What happened?”
She peeled off one rubber glove and stood.
“Life.”
I hated that answer because it left too much room for my imagination.
“You were a senior accountant.”
“And now I clean an airport.”
Her mouth moved into something that almost qualified as a smile.
“Both jobs involve fixing other people’s messes.”
I nearly laughed from habit, because that dry delivery was so unmistakably Samantha, but Chloe’s fingers suddenly tightened around my forearm.
“Ethan, we should go.”
Samantha looked at her.
For perhaps two seconds, nothing happened.
Then something passed between them.
Recognition.
Not curiosity.
Not the awkward appraisal of two women connected to the same man.
Recognition.
Chloe released my arm.
I looked from one to the other.
“Have you two met?”
“No,” Chloe said immediately.
Samantha bent to retrieve the scraper.
“I didn’t say we had.”
“You looked at her like you knew her.”
“Ethan.”
Chloe’s voice had acquired the warning tone she used whenever she thought I was embarrassing us in public.
A man dragging two enormous suitcases squeezed between us and muttered an apology.
The ordinary interruption made the whole encounter feel briefly ridiculous.
Five years apart, one international flight, and here I was interrogating my ex-wife beside a trash receptacle while somebody’s toddler screamed for a pretzel.
I rubbed my forehead.
“This is Chloe.”
“I gathered.”
“We’re getting married in December.”
Samantha looked at the diamond on Chloe’s hand.
“I figured that too.”
Chloe went pale.
Samantha noticed.
So did I.
“Congratulations,” Samantha said.
“Thank you,” Chloe answered.
Neither woman sounded sincere.
I picked up the handle of my suitcase.
“We’re moving back permanently.”
That finally changed Samantha’s expression.
Her eyes returned to mine.
“You’re staying in Chicago?”
“Yes.”
She looked toward the corridor behind her, then checked the cheap digital watch strapped over her sleeve.
Something like fear tightened her face before disappearing.
“Then make sure you get it right this time.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Samantha put her glove back on.
“It means there are things that are easier to live with when you don’t know about them.”
“What things?”
“Not here.”
She pushed the cart away.
I followed two steps.
“Samantha.”
She stopped without turning.
“What truth am I not supposed to know?”
Her shoulders rose and fell once.
Then she glanced back, not at me, but at Chloe.
“Ask the people who benefited from keeping you ignorant.”
She walked away before I could answer.
Chloe was already pulling her phone from her purse.
“Come on.”
“Why did she look at you like that?”
“She didn’t.”
“She did.”
“We just got off a four-hour flight, Ethan.”
“Four and a half.”
“Fine, four and a half.”
She shoved the phone back into her purse without unlocking it.
“Can we please not start our life in Chicago with an interrogation about your ex-wife?”
I should have apologized.
Instead, I watched Samantha disappear behind a service door.
The drive to Evanston took nearly an hour in traffic.
Chloe spent most of it talking about wedding appointments, but she kept repeating herself.
The florist was Tuesday.
No, Wednesday.
Her dress fitting was Thursday morning.
Or maybe her mother had moved it.
Normally I would have teased her.
Instead, I watched her reflection in the passenger window and wondered why she had lied.
My mother had dinner waiting when we arrived.
She hugged me hard enough to hurt my ribs, hugged Chloe almost as hard, and immediately complained that I had lost weight in Vancouver.
“You’re feeding him now,” she told Chloe.
“I’ve been feeding myself for thirty-six years, Mom.”
“That explains the problem.”
For twenty minutes, everything felt normal.
There was roast chicken, potatoes with too much rosemary, a bottle of wine my mother had apparently been saving for our return, and an argument about whether we needed a live band at the wedding.
Then I said Samantha’s name.
My mother’s fork stopped halfway to her mouth.
“I saw her at O’Hare.”
The fork remained still for half a second before she lowered it.
“And?”
“She’s cleaning there.”
“Well, people work.”
“She was an accountant.”
My mother cut into her chicken.
“People change careers.”
“I don’t think scrubbing airport floors was a career change she planned.”
Chloe touched my knee beneath the table.
I moved my leg away.
My mother noticed that too.
“What exactly do you want from me?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Good.”
“She said something strange.”
My mother’s knife struck the plate.
“Ethan.”
“What?”
“You have been back in Illinois for less than three hours.”
“So?”
“So perhaps you could spend those three hours looking forward instead of digging through a marriage that ended five years ago.”
The speed of her irritation bothered me.
I looked at Chloe.
She was studying her wine.
“What did Samantha tell you?” my mother asked.
“Why are you worried about what she told me?”
“I’m not worried.”
“You sound worried.”
“I sound tired.”
Chloe finally looked up.
“Maybe we should drop it.”
May you like
There it was again.
The same urgency.
