Chương 7
“Yes.”
“Then stay.”
“Richard will say you’re turning me against him.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
Natalie studied her.
Elaine looked down.
“That’s the embarrassing part.”
“No,” Natalie said. “It’s the practical part.”
Elaine looked up.
Natalie had learned this from therapy years earlier after Lily’s biological father left when she was six months pregnant: contempt for your own attachment rarely improved your judgment.
“You spent thirty-four years building a life with him,” Natalie said. “You don’t have to stop caring because he behaved terribly.”
Elaine blinked.
“You’re being kinder than I deserve.”
“No. I’m being specific.”
That afternoon Richard came back at four fifteen.
Natalie was still there.
She had stayed because a mover was scheduled to estimate the cost of packing the upstairs rooms. Elaine had gone to lie down. Natalie stood in the kitchen drinking coffee when she heard the front door.
Richard entered carrying a leather duffel.
He stopped when he saw her.
“Where’s Elaine?”
“Upstairs.”
“You had no right to keep her here.”
“I didn’t.”
“She should be with me.”
“She said she wanted to stay.”
“She’s upset.”
“Yes.”
“You’re exploiting that.”
Natalie set down the cup.
“Do you want to talk about the house or the cake?”
“I want to talk about my wife.”
“Then talk to her.”
His jaw tightened.
“I spoke with Harold.”
“I know.”
“He says I signed valid documents.”
“He’s a good lawyer.”
“He also says litigation would be expensive.”
“It would.”
Richard stepped farther into the kitchen.
“I’m not suing you.”
Natalie waited.
“I could.”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The part where not attacking someone becomes a gift.”
Richard stared at her.
She had seen Daniel make the same expression after being caught using a weak argument.
For the first time, the resemblance unsettled her.
“I’m leaving,” Richard said.
“Good.”
“I’m taking a room at the Langham for a few days.”
“You can afford it.”
“I can afford many things.”
Natalie almost responded, then decided not to.
Richard glanced toward the dining room.
His eyes landed on the seam in the floor where the turquoise frosting remained.
Something moved across his face.
It was not remorse exactly.
Recognition, perhaps.
“I should not have knocked the cake down.”
Natalie stared at him.
“No.”
“I was angry.”
“She was four yesterday too.”
“I know how old she is.”
“Do you?”
His gaze sharpened.
“I did not intend to frighten her.”
“You told her she didn’t belong in the family.”
“I was speaking to you.”
“She was sitting there.”
“I meant that you had forced a situation where—”
Natalie held up a hand.
“No.”
He stopped.
“You do not get to convert what you said into a metaphor because you dislike how it sounds today.”
Richard’s face hardened.
“I am attempting to acknowledge that the cake was excessive.”
“The cake is not the problem.”
“I understand you believe that.”
“No. The cake is evidence.”
“Of what?”
“That you wanted a child to feel unwanted badly enough that you were willing to make the entire room watch.”
His eyes shifted.
Not much.
Enough.
Natalie felt the first true crack in his certainty.
Richard looked toward the stairs.
“Elaine has made you think I’m some kind of monster.”
“She barely defended herself.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“You don’t need my answer.”
“She is my wife.”
“And she’s upstairs.”
Richard started toward the hall.
Natalie stepped sideways.
He stopped.
“Move.”
“She asked me not to let you come upstairs until she comes down.”
His face changed.
“She said that?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Natalie lifted her phone from the counter.
“Would you like me to call her?”
For a few seconds, neither moved.
Richard looked up the staircase.
Then he sat at the kitchen table.
The gesture startled Natalie.
He placed both hands on his knees.
“What did she tell you?”
“I’m not discussing her private conversation.”
“She is talking about me in my house.”
Natalie looked at him.
Richard shut his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, his voice had lost some of its steel.
“In your house.”
The words sounded painful.
Natalie did not enjoy hearing them.
That irritated her.
He looked around the kitchen.
“I installed those cabinets.”
“I know.”
“White was Elaine’s idea. I wanted walnut.”
“She told me.”
“She tells you things?”
“Sometimes.”
“She doesn’t tell me much anymore.”
Natalie leaned against the counter.
For once, Richard did not seem to be performing authority.
He simply looked tired.
“She told me once you only replace lightbulbs after she asks three times,” Natalie said.
His mouth twitched.
“That’s not true.”
“She said the hallway stayed dark for two weeks.”
“I ordered the wrong base.”
“She said that too.”
A silence.
Then Richard almost smiled.
It disappeared quickly.
Natalie hated that the moment made him human.
She hated herself for wanting him easier to despise.
“Why did you do it?” she asked.
He looked at her.
“The cake.”
“I told you. I was angry.”
“That’s not enough.”
He rubbed one thumb against the side of his hand.
“Daniel was going to come to me.”
“For the house.”
“For the company.”
“You engineered that.”
“I gave him an option.”
“You withheld the thing he wanted unless he gave you the thing you wanted.”
“That is called negotiation.”
“That is called parenting if your child is twelve. At thirty-two, it’s control.”
His expression flattened.
“You have a convenient vocabulary for things you dislike.”
“And you have expensive words for bullying.”
There it was.
The old Richard returned.
“I built that company from fourteen employees to nine hundred.”
“And?”
“And Daniel walked away from something most people would kill to inherit.”
“He became a doctor.”
“He became an employee.”
“He became a pediatric anesthesiologist.”
“A very good one.”
Natalie paused.
It was the first compliment about Daniel’s career she had ever heard Richard say without qualification.
Richard looked down.
“He was supposed to come back eventually.”
“Did he know that?”
“He knew.”
“Did he agree?”
May you like
Richard did not answer.
Natalie let the silence do the work.
