Chương 5
“Hey.”
He stayed there.
She touched the back of his neck with her uninjured hand.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For coming like this.”
He lifted his head.
“You don’t apologize for getting pushed.”
“I’m apologizing for being sneaky.”
“That’s not what caused this.”
“No. But it made things stranger.”
He started the car.
Margaret looked out at the hospital entrance.
“Your father would have hated this wedding.”
Ethan almost smiled.
“He hated weddings.”
“He hated rented suits.”
“He wore the same one to every funeral.”
“And looked terrible in it.”
They sat quietly.
Then Ethan said, “I wish he were here.”
“So do I.”
It was the first time either had said it that day.
Margaret looked down at her bandaged wrist.
“I think that’s why I came this way.”
Ethan waited.
“I didn’t know how to arrive without him.”
That sentence stayed with Ethan all the way back into the mountains.
Claire was awake when they returned at 10:08.
She saw headlights through her window.
She stood.
Then sat again.
She did not go downstairs.
That was the first decent decision she had made all day.
The next morning, Ethan knocked at her door at eight.
Claire had slept perhaps forty minutes.
She opened it wearing gray sweatpants and one of his old Northwestern shirts.
His eyes caught on the shirt.
Neither mentioned it.
“Can I come in?”
“It’s your room too.”
“Not right now.”
She stepped aside.
He entered.
The wedding dress still hung near the window.
Someone had cleaned the hem.
Ethan looked at it.
Claire followed his gaze.
“I asked them not to.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
He sat in the chair by the window.
She stayed standing.
“How is she?”
“No fracture.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Okay.”
“She has a sprained wrist and a bruised hip.”
“Can I apologize?”
“You can.”
“When?”
“That’s up to her.”
Claire nodded.
Ethan looked exhausted.
She wanted to cross the room and touch him.
She did not.
“Are you leaving me?”
He rubbed his palms together.
“I don’t know.”
The answer frightened her more than yes.
“What happens now?”
“I don’t know that either.”
“We’re married.”
“Legally.”
“Ethan.”
“I know.”
Claire sat on the edge of the bed.
He looked at her.
“Why did you never tell me your mother was coming as staff?”
“I didn’t know.”
“You had no idea?”
“No.”
She believed him.
That hurt too.
“What did she mean about surprising us?”
“She thought it would be funny.”
Claire stared.
“That’s insane.”
“Yeah.”
The word slipped out before Ethan could stop it.
For a second they both almost smiled.
Then the moment disappeared.
“She wanted to see us before she introduced herself,” he said.
Claire’s stomach tightened.
“She was testing me.”
“No.”
“That sounds exactly like a test.”
“She was scared.”
“Of me?”
“Of being here.”
Claire looked around the luxury suite.
For the first time she saw it from outside herself: champagne bucket, white roses, custom garment bags, gift boxes, the mountain view they had paid extra to guarantee.
“She thought she wouldn’t fit.”
“And I proved her right.”
Ethan said nothing.
Claire looked at him.
“Say it.”
“I don’t need to.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No. You’re trying to make me punish you.”
“What?”
“You want me to tell you you’re terrible so you can either fight me or collapse. Both are easier than figuring out why you did it.”
She recoiled.
“You don’t get to psychoanalyze me.”
“I’m not.”
“You just did.”
“Fine.”
He stood.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
Claire pressed her palms against her knees.
“I’ve been awful.”
Ethan turned.
“Not always.”
She looked up.
That was somehow worse.
“When?”
He hesitated.
“When what?”
“When have I been awful?”
“Claire.”
“I need to know.”
He walked to the window.
Outside, lodge employees were clearing snow from the terrace.
The firepit was dark.
“I’ve watched you make people nervous,” he said.
“Who?”
“Servers. Assistants. Melissa.”
“She’s our planner.”
“She’s a person.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
Claire stood.
“Yes.”
“You called her at midnight because the florist sent you an email you didn’t like.”
“She told me to contact her anytime.”
“People say that because it’s their job.”
“She’s being paid.”
Ethan looked at her.
Claire heard herself.
She looked away.
“Okay.”
“You complained about a bartender in Chicago until his manager comped our dinner.”
“He ignored us.”
“For eight minutes.”
“It was thirty.”
“It was eight. I checked because you were so angry.”
Claire crossed her arms.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I did.”
“No, you said, ‘Let it go.’”
“That was me saying something.”
“No. That was you avoiding a fight.”
He considered that.
“Probably.”
“Then don’t stand there acting like you’ve been bravely confronting me for three years.”
“I’m not.”
“You let it happen.”
“Yes.”
The answer stopped her.
Ethan nodded once.
“I did.”
Claire’s arms slowly dropped.
“I told myself it wasn’t who you were. You were stressed, tired, dealing with work. And most of the time you were generous. Funny. You remembered everybody’s birthdays. You spent two weekends helping Tessa move. You drove my cousin four hours because he missed his flight.”
“Then why are we talking like I’m some kind of—”
“Because yesterday you put your hands on my mother.”
Claire went silent.
“There’s a line,” Ethan said. “You crossed it.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know if knowing is enough.”
“What would be enough?”
“I don’t know.”
She hated that answer.
He seemed to hate it too.
Claire looked at his left hand.
Bare.
“Where’s your ring?”
“Melissa picked it up.”
He reached into his pocket.
The ring lay in his palm.
Claire’s breath caught.
He did not put it on.
“I didn’t throw it away.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
He closed his fingers.
“It’s just the truth.”
Margaret agreed to see Claire at eleven.
Not privately.
She asked Ethan to stay.
Claire understood.
May you like
They met in a small lounge on the second floor.
Margaret wore jeans and a blue sweater. Without the catering uniform, she looked smaller.
