Chương 5
Daniel said nothing.
She wiped her face again.
“I kept telling myself I was doing it for you. Then for Ethan. Then because your mother died without you and Richard fixing things, and I thought maybe someday you’d hate that there had never been another chance.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“My mother didn’t die because I refused to fix things.”
“I know.”
“Richard left her with fourteen thousand dollars in debt and two children.”
“I know.”
“He cleaned out the account she used for rent.”
“I know.”
“He disappeared for six months.”
“I know.”
“He came back drunk, slept on our couch for nine days, and stole her car.”
Madison looked away.
“I know.”
“He told me at sixteen that if I was man enough to judge him, I was man enough to pay the electric bill.”
Her shoulders folded slightly.
“I know.”
“I told you all of this.”
“Yes.”
“So what did you think you knew that I didn’t?”
She did not answer.
That was the first moment Daniel understood there might not be an explanation capable of saving them.
Madison was not stupid.
She was not cruel.
She had not forgotten the facts.
She had simply placed her judgment above his because she trusted her idea of repair more than she trusted his refusal.
It was not the kind of betrayal people made television shows about.
No lipstick on a collar.
No naked man behind a hotel door.
No second phone buzzing at midnight.
It felt worse because it had been built out of love and certainty.
Daniel opened the suite door.
Aaron sat on the couch with Ethan, who had removed his shoes and was watching cartoons with the volume low. Two plates of French fries sat on the coffee table.
Ethan looked up immediately.
“Dad.”
Daniel stepped inside.
Madison stayed in the hall.
Ethan’s eyes went to her.
She covered her mouth.
Daniel turned.
“I’ll call you.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tonight?”
“No.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.”
She nodded.
He began closing the door.
“Daniel.”
He paused.
“I never slept with anyone.”
He looked at her.
The statement seemed absurdly small after what had happened, and yet he understood why she needed to say it.
“I know that now.”
Her face softened with relief for half a second.
Daniel finished.
“That wasn’t the question anymore.”
He closed the door.
That evening, Ethan ate six French fries and half a dinner roll stolen from the reception kitchen.
Daniel changed out of his tuxedo but left the white shirt on because every other shirt was packed for a honeymoon he would no longer be taking.
Aaron stayed.
He did not ask questions.
He watched baseball with Ethan until the child fell asleep sideways on the couch, one sock missing, bow tie still around his neck.
Daniel found the black-and-gold keycard on the carpet near Ethan’s hand.
He picked it up at last.
814.
The plastic was warm from being held.
He carried it into the bathroom and set it beside the sink.
For several minutes he stood there with both hands on the marble counter.
His reflection looked older than it had that morning.
He noticed toothpaste near the faucet.
Ethan had missed the sink again.
Daniel wet a towel and wiped it.
Then he laughed.
The sound came suddenly and badly.
He sat on the closed toilet lid and put his face in his hands.
Aaron found him there ten minutes later.
He leaned against the bathroom doorway.
“You want me to say something useful?”
“No.”
“Great. I don’t have anything.”
Daniel looked up.
Aaron held out a bottle of water.
Daniel took it.
“You knew?”
“About your dad? No.”
“Madison never said anything?”
“No.”
Daniel twisted the cap.
“Aaron.”
“I’m serious.”
“You were here last night.”
“I was drunk enough to sing Billy Joel with your uncle. I was not conducting surveillance.”
Daniel looked at the water.
Aaron waited.
“She met with him three times.”
“Okay.”
“She lied about where she was.”
Aaron’s face tightened.
“Okay.”
“She planned to tell me after the wedding.”
“That’s not okay.”
Daniel glanced at him.
Aaron shrugged.
“I’m not trying to be wise. That’s just not okay.”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“You don’t have to know tonight.”
“I have two hundred people downstairs who came to watch me get married.”
“They’re mostly leaving.”
“Mostly?”
“Your cousin Mark found the open bar.”
Despite himself, Daniel laughed once.
Aaron nodded.
“There he is.”
Daniel rubbed his eyes.
“How bad is it?”
“Socially?”
“Yes.”
Aaron considered.
“Your aunt Sandra posted a picture of Ethan holding the keycard.”
Daniel went still.
“What?”
“She deleted it.”
“When?”
“After about four minutes.”
“How many people saw it?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel stood.
“Why would she post that?”
“She thought it was funny before she knew what it was.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I told her.”
Daniel walked into the bedroom, found his phone, and turned it on.
Ninety-eight notifications.
Texts.
Missed calls.
Three voicemails.
A message from his ex-wife, Claire.
Ethan okay?
Daniel replied immediately.
He’s with me. He’s okay. Wedding canceled. I’ll explain tomorrow.
The dots appeared almost at once.
Do you need me to come get him?
Daniel looked toward the couch.
No. Let him sleep. I’ll call in morning.
Claire replied with a thumbs-up, then another message.
Whatever happened, don’t let him think he caused it.
Daniel sat on the edge of the bed.
He stared at the words.
Claire knew him well enough to identify the first thing that mattered.
That irritated him because he did not want to feel grateful to anyone at the moment.
He put the phone down.
At 9:14, someone knocked.
Aaron checked the peephole.
“It’s Evelyn.”
Daniel almost told him not to open the door.
Instead he nodded.
Evelyn entered carrying a manila envelope.
She had changed out of the navy gown into black slacks and a cream sweater. Without formal makeup, she looked exhausted.
“I won’t stay.”
May you like
Daniel looked at the envelope.
“What is that?”
