Chương 6
“No.”
The single word seemed to surprise him as much as her.
Denise exhaled sharply.
“This is ridiculous.”
I looked at her.
“You may leave whenever you like.”
“This is between them.”
“Then you should definitely leave.”
“Mom,” Lauren said.
Denise turned.
“What?”
“Just stop.”
It was the first time all evening I had heard Lauren speak to her mother without certainty.
Denise’s jaw tightened.
Lauren moved closer to the glass.
“Ethan, I’m sorry.”
He did not answer.
“I’m sorry about Wednesday.”
Still nothing.
“And tonight.”
He looked at me.
I moved away from the door.
Not my conversation.
Lauren pressed one hand against the storm door frame.
“I lost control.”
Ethan’s voice came from behind me.
“You hit my grandmother.”
“I know.”
“You hit me.”
“I know.”
Denise turned her head slightly toward Lauren.
There it was again.
Recognition.
Not surprise.
I watched carefully.
Lauren saw me watching.
Her face changed.
“Mom already knows.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“What?”
Denise looked furious.
Not at Lauren.
At the fact that the information had been spoken.
Lauren rubbed her forehead.
“I called her Wednesday.”
Ethan stared through the glass.
“You told her?”
“I was upset.”
“You told her you hit me?”
“I told her we had a fight.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Denise cut in.
“She told me there had been pushing.”
Ethan gave a short laugh.
“Pushing.”
“You grabbed her wrists,” Denise said.
“After she shoved me.”
“I’m not saying you started it.”
“You literally just did.”
“I said both of you were upset.”
Lauren closed her eyes.
“Mom, stop.”
“No, because this is becoming something it wasn’t.”
I felt my temper move.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
“What exactly was it, Denise?”
She looked at me.
“A private argument between an engaged couple.”
“Followed two days later by your daughter striking me in a restaurant.”
“I am not defending that.”
“You have done almost nothing else.”
Her face hardened.
“You canceled an entire family weekend in response.”
“I ended a dinner after being assaulted.”
“You canceled October.”
“Yes.”
“That trip has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with whether I want twenty-two people in a house I rented and paid for.”
“Money again.”
I smiled without warmth.
“You seem unusually offended by other people controlling their own money.”
Denise’s nostrils flared.
Lauren began crying.
Not dramatically.
She covered her mouth and bent her head.
Ethan stepped forward instinctively.
Then stopped.
That little unfinished movement seemed to hurt him.
Lauren saw it too.
“Can we please talk alone?”
He shook his head.
“Not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t trust what happens when we’re alone.”
Denise went very still.
Lauren looked as if he had slapped her.
“I would never hurt you.”
Ethan stared at her.
“You already did.”
She looked down.
The silence that followed had no dignity in it.
No clean emotional shape.
Just four adults standing on opposite sides of a locked door after midnight, with porch moths batting themselves stupidly against the light.
Lauren wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.
“I’m not a monster.”
“No one said you were.”
“You think I am.”
“I think you hit me.”
“Once.”
“Twice.”
Her mouth opened.
She looked at Denise.
That was when I knew there was more.
Ethan knew it too.
“What?”
Lauren shook her head.
“Nothing.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Lauren.”
Denise stepped between them visually, moving directly in front of her daughter.
“He’s exhausted.”
I almost admired the efficiency of it.
A subject change made physical.
Ethan’s face had gone pale.
“What else happened?”
Lauren whispered, “It wasn’t hitting.”
Denise said, “We are not doing this on a porch.”
“What wasn’t hitting?”
Lauren looked at Ethan through the glass.
“The night after your birthday.”
He stared at her.
“You threw the mug.”
“I know.”
“You said it slipped.”
“It did.”
“Lauren.”
“It slipped after I picked it up.”
Ethan’s breathing changed.
I remembered nothing about a mug.
Apparently Daniel had not known everything either.
“Did it hit you?” I asked.
Ethan looked at me.
“No.”
Lauren said, “I wasn’t trying to hit him.”
“Did you throw it toward him?”
She did not answer.
Denise turned on her daughter.
“Stop talking.”
Lauren stared at her mother.
For the first time, anger replaced fear.
“Why?”
“Because you’re making everything sound worse.”
“It was worse.”
Denise’s face collapsed for half a second.
Lauren continued.
“You always tell me to calm down and apologize afterward.”
“Because usually that is what adults do.”
“No, you tell me to make sure nobody hears about it.”
Denise looked at me.
Then at Ethan.
“This is not helping.”
Lauren laughed through her tears.
“I know.”
Something had shifted.
Not toward reconciliation.
Toward exposure.
Lauren seemed almost relieved by it.
“I threw the mug,” she said.
“I broke his phone in April.”
Ethan stared at her.
“You said you dropped it.”
“I threw it.”
“Why?”
“Because you wouldn’t show me your messages.”
“You had my password.”
“You changed it.”
“Because you were reading conversations with my coworkers.”
“I know.”
Denise said her daughter’s name sharply.
Lauren ignored her.
“I also called your old company.”
Ethan froze.
“What?”
“I called HR after you got laid off.”
I felt something cold move through my stomach.
“Why?” he asked.
“I wanted to know if the woman was still there.”
His face changed.
“The woman I kissed?”
“Yes.”
“You called my employer?”
“Former employer.”
“That’s your distinction?”
“I didn’t give my name.”
“How did you even know who to ask for?”
Lauren looked away.
“Lauren.”
“I found her last name in your email.”
“You told me you never contacted her.”
“I didn’t contact her.”
“You contacted her workplace.”
“I know.”
Ethan took a step backward.
Lauren’s crying had stopped.
She looked exhausted now.
Almost emptied out.
“I kept thinking if I could prove you were lying about one more thing, then I’d know I wasn’t crazy.”
Ethan stared at her.
“Did you find anything?”
“No.”
“Did that stop you?”
“No.”
May you like
Denise reached for Lauren’s arm.
“We’re leaving.”
