Chương 5
When Claire’s mother died, Ethan had handled half the practical arrangements without being asked.
He answered phones.
He picked up Robert’s sister from the airport.
He noticed when the funeral director forgot to place Claire’s mother’s wedding ring back on her hand and quietly fixed it before anyone else saw.
That was the Ethan Claire had married.
The other Ethan had existed too.
She had believed, for a long time, that loving one version required patience with the other.
Her phone rang.
Marcus Hale.
Ethan’s attorney.
Claire stared at the name until it stopped.
Frank said, “You don’t have to answer.”
Robert opened his mouth.
Claire lifted one finger at him.
He closed it.
The phone rang again five minutes later.
This time Claire answered.
“Hello.”
“Claire, it’s Marcus.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry to call you under these circumstances.”
“No, you’re not.”
Silence.
Then, unexpectedly, Marcus said, “Fair.”
Claire sat at the kitchen table.
Robert remained by the counter, pretending not to listen.
Marcus continued.
“Ethan has been released. There are conditions he needs to follow. I’m not calling to discuss the criminal matter with you.”
“Then why are you calling?”
“There are practical issues. The house. Accounts. Your vehicles. Media.”
Claire almost admired the list.
“You mean damage control.”
“I mean you and Ethan are legally married and your lives are financially connected.”
“He told you to call me.”
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you to ask me to retract my statement?”
“No.”
Claire waited.
Marcus sighed.
“He did ask whether that was possible.”
Robert’s head lifted.
Claire said, “And?”
“I told him I would not contact you about changing a statement.”
The answer unsettled her because she had wanted Marcus to be easier to hate.
“What does he want?”
“To speak with you.”
“No.”
“I’ll tell him.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Claire frowned.
“Marcus.”
“Yes?”
“Did he tell you he hit me?”
A longer silence.
“I’m his attorney.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No,” Marcus said. “It isn’t.”
After the call, Robert said, “You need your own lawyer.”
Claire stared at him.
“What?”
“A divorce lawyer.”
“I haven’t said I’m getting divorced.”
Robert went still.
Frank suddenly became very interested in the coffee.
Claire hated the look on her father’s face.
Not judgment.
Restraint.
It made her angrier.
“You think I’m stupid.”
“No.”
“You think I’m going back.”
“I think last night was twelve hours ago.”
“Then stop planning the rest of my life.”
Robert’s mouth tightened.
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“I know.”
“That apparently irritates you.”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Frank picked up his coffee.
“I’m going to take this somewhere with fewer Bennetts.”
Neither of them looked at him.
When he had gone, Claire said, “You hated Ethan before he ever hurt me.”
Robert’s face hardened.
“I didn’t trust him.”
“You disliked him because he wasn’t military, because he talked too much, because he bought a Porsche at twenty-eight—”
“I disliked him because he watched you every time you spoke to another man.”
Claire stopped.
Robert’s voice stayed low.
“I saw it.”
“When?”
“Christmas. Three years ago.”
Before the wedding.
Claire stared.
“You never said that.”
“I said I didn’t trust him.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“You were in love.”
“So you decided I couldn’t hear an actual reason?”
“I decided if I pushed too hard, you’d defend him harder.”
Claire looked away because he was right.
That made her angrier too.
Robert took one step closer.
“I did not know he was hurting you.”
“I know.”
“If I had—”
“You would’ve done what?”
He did not answer.
Claire imagined the ice bucket.
“You see?” she said.
Robert flinched.
The argument ended there.
Not because either of them was satisfied.
Because both had reached the place where one more sentence would have been about something larger than Ethan.
At noon, Claire met Officer Moreno at a hospital-based forensic program recommended by the department.
Robert drove her.
She insisted he wait outside.
He did.
The examination took more than an hour. Claire answered the same questions again. A nurse photographed the bruises with a scale beside them. She documented the rib tenderness and suggested imaging because of the fall.
Nothing was broken.
Claire should have felt relieved.
Instead she sat in the passenger seat afterward holding paperwork and thought, So it counts less.
She hated herself for thinking it.
Robert kept both hands on the steering wheel.
“You hungry?”
“No.”
“Coffee?”
“No.”
“Want me to stop asking?”
“Yes.”
He drove three blocks.
“Gas?”
Claire turned toward him.
Robert’s face was completely serious.
She laughed despite herself.
He smiled for perhaps two seconds.
Then traffic moved.
They stopped at a red light.
A bus crossed in front of them.
Claire looked at the people sitting behind its windows. A teenager slept against the glass. An older woman held a grocery bag in her lap. A man in hospital scrubs stared at his phone.
Ordinary people having an ordinary Thursday.
Claire felt offended by them.
Then guilty for feeling offended.
Robert said, “Your mother used to get mad at traffic after bad appointments.”
Claire glanced at him.
“She’d say everyone should know to get out of her way.”
“That sounds like her.”
“She once honked at a priest.”
“Mom did not honk at priests.”
“He cut her off.”
“That changes nothing.”
“She believed it changed everything.”
Claire smiled.
The light turned green.
For three minutes they talked about her mother and nothing else.
It was the easiest three minutes Claire had experienced since the party.
Then her phone buzzed.
Ethan’s sister, Natalie.
Please call me before you decide anything permanent.
Claire closed her eyes.
By evening, Ethan’s side of the story had begun to take shape.
He did not post publicly.
That would have been too obvious.
Instead, mutual friends received private messages.
Ethan was devastated.
Claire had fallen during an argument.
He had tried to stop her from leaving while she was upset.
Robert had always hated him.
The party had become chaotic.
May you like
Everyone had been drinking.
Ethan hoped Claire would get support.
