Chương 9
“Yeah.”
“I should’ve come Wednesday.”
“Dad.”
“I should have.”
Ethan pulled back.
“I didn’t want you to.”
“That doesn’t mean I should’ve listened.”
That was not entirely fair, but Ethan let it pass.
Daniel picked up the duffel.
“Your mother packed clothes.”
“Thanks.”
“And deodorant.”
Ethan frowned.
“Was that necessary to mention?”
“She specifically told me to mention it.”
That sounded exactly like Susan.
I went back to the kitchen.
Daniel followed.
“The Whitmores are telling people the wedding is postponed.”
Ethan appeared behind him.
“What?”
“Denise sent a group text around five.”
“Postponed?”
Daniel handed him his phone.
Ethan read.
His face hardened.
“She says, ‘Due to an unexpected family crisis, today’s ceremony will be rescheduled at a later date.’”
I took the phone.
There were no names.
No explanation.
Just a neat message with a little white heart at the end.
“What do you want people told?” I asked Ethan.
“It’s canceled.”
“Then say canceled.”
Daniel rubbed his jaw.
“Do you want to get into details?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Ethan looked at me.
“What if she changes her mind?”
“Who?”
“Lauren.”
Daniel said immediately, “That doesn’t matter.”
Ethan’s face closed.
I looked at my son.
“Coffee.”
“What?”
“Go get coffee.”
“I already had coffee.”
“Get another.”
“Mom.”
“Daniel.”
He stared at me.
Then he understood.
“I’ll be outside.”
He took his mug onto the back porch.
Ethan sat.
“You think I might change my mind.”
“I think you might miss her.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“No.”
He stared at Denise’s message on Daniel’s phone.
“I hate that she wrote postponed.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes it sound like we just need a new date.”
“Then correct it.”
He opened his own phone after charging it for a few minutes.
There were forty-one missed calls, eighty-six texts, and more notifications than the screen could display.
He flinched.
“Start with the wedding party,” I said.
He typed slowly.
The wedding is canceled.
Lauren and I have ended our engagement.
I’m not discussing private details today.
I’m sorry for the disruption and appreciate everyone giving us space.
He showed me.
“Good.”
“It sounds cold.”
“It sounds clear.”
He sent it.
Within seconds, the replies began.
He put the phone facedown.
Then someone knocked on the front door.
Not rang.
Knocked.
Three measured taps.
Daniel came in from the back porch.
“I’ll get it.”
I followed him.
Through the glass stood a man in khaki pants and a wrinkled white shirt.
Lauren’s father, Michael Whitmore.
He looked as though he had not slept either.
Daniel opened the inner door but kept the storm door locked.
Michael raised both hands slightly.
“I’m not here to fight.”
Daniel said nothing.
Michael looked past him toward me.
“Is Ethan here?”
“Yes.”
“I need five minutes.”
“For what?”
His eyes shifted toward the hallway.
“To give him something.”
Ethan came into view.
Michael’s expression changed.
He looked ashamed.
“Mr. Whitmore?”
Michael reached into his pocket.
For one ugly second, every muscle in Daniel’s body tightened.
Then Michael pulled out a small black flash drive.
Lauren’s father held it between two fingers.
“She asked me to destroy this last month.”
Ethan stared at him.
“What is it?”
Michael swallowed.
“A backup from her laptop.”
Denise’s message suddenly felt much less important.
Michael looked directly at Ethan.
“She kept records of your accounts, your messages, your location history, and more.”
Ethan went completely still.
Then Michael said, “And I think you need to see what she was planning to do after the wedding.”
Ethan did not reach for the flash drive.
He looked at Michael instead.
“What does that mean?”
Michael lowered his hand.
“I don’t know everything.”
Daniel gave a humorless laugh.
“That’s becoming a popular sentence.”
Michael glanced at him.
“I deserve that.”
“No,” Daniel said.
“You deserve worse.”
“Dad.”
Ethan’s voice was tired, not sharp.
Daniel stopped.
Michael remained on the porch.
The storm door still separated us.
I looked at the flash drive between his fingers.
“Did Lauren give you permission to bring that here?”
“No.”
“Did you take it from her?”
“No.”
“Then where did you get it?”
He looked embarrassed.
“She left her laptop at our house about six weeks ago.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I made the backup.”
Ethan stared at him.
“You copied her computer?”
Michael rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought something was wrong.”
Daniel folded his arms.
“With her?”
“With both of them.”
Ethan flinched.
Michael saw it.
“I don’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“How did you mean it?”
Michael exhaled.
“I mean the relationship.”
Ethan looked at the flash drive again.
“And you went through her files.”
“Yes.”
“Without telling her.”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
Michael nodded.
“Yes.”
The easy agreement took some of the anger out of the room.
Ethan looked almost disappointed by that.
“What did you find?”
Michael glanced at me.
“Can I come in?”
Ethan hesitated.
I did not answer for him.
After a moment, he nodded.
Daniel unlocked the storm door.
Michael stepped inside and removed his shoes without being asked.
That small courtesy irritated me for reasons I could not explain.
A man could invade his daughter’s privacy and still remember not to track dirt across somebody else’s floor.
Human beings were inconvenient that way.
We moved into the living room.
Michael sat on the edge of the armchair.
Ethan remained standing.
Daniel took the sofa.
I stayed near the fireplace.
The flash drive lay on Michael’s open palm.
“What exactly is on it?” Ethan asked.
“Mostly copies of folders.”
“What folders?”
“Financial records.”
Ethan’s face tightened.
“Whose?”
“Yours and hers.”
“What else?”
“Screenshots.”
“Of?”
“Messages.”
Ethan laughed softly.
“Of course.”
Michael looked down.
“There were also notes.”
“What kind of notes?”
“That’s the part I don’t understand.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Try.”
Michael rubbed his thumb against the plastic casing.
“She had a spreadsheet.”
Ethan stared at him.
“A spreadsheet.”
“Yes.”
“With what?”
“Dates.”
“Dates of what?”
“Arguments.”
Nobody spoke.
Michael continued.
May you like
“Things you said.”
“Things I said?”
