Chương 7
I wanted you to stop making me apologize for being hurt.
I wanted you to care that I was lonely.
I wanted you to ask why I started eating dinner after everybody else went to bed.
I wanted you to remember what my father did for your business without acting like generosity had been your birthright.
Instead, I said, “Nothing right now.”
That seemed to scare him more than anger would have.
He stepped back.
Diane said, “Good.”
Nobody looked at her.
I packed the girls’ clothes next.
Emma’s favorite green hoodie was on the floor beside her bed.
I picked it up and smelled the strawberry shampoo she insisted made her hair shinier.
There was a folded birthday card beneath it.
The envelope had GRANDMA written across the front in Emma’s careful block letters.
I opened it.
Inside was the card Emma had made for Diane two weeks earlier for her birthday.
She had drawn a picture of the two of them standing beside a purple house that looked nothing like Diane’s actual home.
Underneath, Emma had written, I LOVE THAT YOU ALWAYS KNOW HOW TO MAKE THINGS FANCY.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
For a moment, I could not move.
Mark appeared in the doorway.
“What is it?”
I handed him the card.
He read it.
His face went still.
Diane leaned around his shoulder.
“That was sweet.”
I looked at her.
She smiled faintly, as if she expected agreement.
“You kept this?”
“Of course I did.”
“Here?”
“I must have left it.”
Emma had given it to Diane at brunch.
I remembered watching Diane slip it into her purse after barely glancing at it.
Somehow it had ended up in my daughter’s room again.
Maybe she had returned it accidentally with a sweater.
Maybe she had handed it to Mark.
Maybe there was an innocent explanation.
The uncertainty was almost worse.
I took the card back from him.
“This is coming with us.”
Diane looked offended.
“It belongs to me.”
“No.”
“It was given to me.”
I stared at her.
“It belongs with Emma now.”
Mark whispered my name.
I put the card into the suitcase.
Then I went into Lily’s room.
The argument did not follow me.
That silence felt unnatural.
I found Lily’s inhaler in the bathroom cabinet, her school backpack beneath the kitchen bench, and Emma’s library book on the couch.
Denise carried two bags to the car.
On her third trip, she stopped beside me in the driveway.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Good answer.”
I looked at the house.
“I hate that I’m leaving.”
“You’re not surrendering a flag.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I gave her a tired look.
She shrugged.
“I’m a nurse.”
“We repeat obvious things until people stop doing stupid things.”
That made me laugh.
Inside the house, voices rose.
Mark and Diane.
I could not hear the words.
Denise glanced toward the door.
“You want the rest of the stuff?”
“No.”
“Then get in the car.”
I went back inside once more for my laptop.
Mark was alone in the foyer.
Diane had disappeared.
He looked exhausted.
“Mom left.”
I nodded.
He held something in his hand.
The blue folder.
Natalie’s folder.
My pulse jumped.
“Give me that.”
He looked down at it.
“I was going to.”
“Give it to me.”
He handed it over.
The papers inside were rearranged.
I checked quickly.
My consultation notes were there.
A printed asset list.
A preliminary property summary.
A copy of the lease for Palmer Avenue.
And a page with Natalie’s handwritten questions.
I looked up.
“You read all of this.”
“Yes.”
There was no point denying it now.
“When?”
“Last night.”
“After we left?”
He nodded.
“How did you open the box?”
His mouth tightened.
“With a screwdriver.”
The honesty surprised me.
“Why?”
“Because you left with the girls and wouldn’t answer me.”
“So you broke into my private files.”
“I panicked.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“I know.”
He said it quietly.
The admission did not soften anything.
It only made the room sadder.
I tucked the folder against my chest.
“Did you photograph anything?”
“No.”
“Copy anything?”
“No.”
“Send anything to anyone?”
“No.”
“Tell your mother?”
His eyes shifted.
“Some of it.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That you’d seen a lawyer.”
“And Palmer?”
He nodded.
I breathed through my nose.
“Anything else?”
“No.”
“Did you contact anyone about the building?”
“No.”
I watched him.
He looked back at me.
For years I had been able to tell when Mark lied because his right shoulder rose slightly.
It stayed level.
Maybe he was telling the truth.
Maybe twelve years had simply made him better at lying.
“I need the house keys,” he said.
I stared at him.
“What?”
“If you’re leaving.”
“This is my house.”
His face flushed.
“It’s our home.”
“That isn’t the same legal question.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Talk to me like a lawyer.”
“I’m not.”
“You already know everything.”
His voice cracked.
“You’ve had months to prepare.”
I looked at him.
That was the first thing he had said all day that felt true.
“I had months to be afraid.”
He blinked.
I continued before I could stop myself.
“I didn’t know whether leaving you would destroy the girls.”
His expression tightened.
“I didn’t know whether I was being selfish.”
“I didn’t know whether I was exaggerating every problem because that’s what you kept telling me.”
He looked down.
“I didn’t know if I was allowed to be unhappy when you never hit me, never cheated on me, never drank too much, never disappeared.”
I hated how close my voice was to breaking.
“So yes, I prepared.”
He swallowed.
“Rachel.”
“I’m not giving you my keys.”
He nodded once.
I expected an argument.
It did not come.
I walked past him.
At the door, he said, “Did you ever love me?”
I turned.
He looked smaller standing alone in the foyer.
“Yes.”
May you like
His face twisted.
“Then how can you do this?”
