Chương 13
Ivy’s crying softened in Brooks’s arms.
Julian continued. “But you left for deployment angry with me and refused to say whether you wanted the marriage when you came back.”
Rebecca felt the old argument rise.
“I told you I needed time.”
“You told me, ‘Do whatever makes this easier.’”
“Because you asked whether we should separate while I was packing.”
“I asked because you had already packed half the bedroom.”
“For six months overseas.”
“You packed the photographs.”
“They were mine.”
“Our wedding picture was yours?”
“I was scared.”
“So was I.”
The admission left them both exposed.
Brooks looked at Ms. Patel. “Maybe we should take the baby into the hall.”
“No,” Rebecca and Julian said at once.
Ivy made a small hiccup.
The absurdity of their synchronized response cracked something. Rebecca laughed, once, despite herself. Julian looked startled, then laughed too, exhausted and humorless.
Ms. Patel closed her notebook.
“I am going to recommend co-parenting counseling,” she said.
Rebecca wiped beneath one eye. “Is that mandatory?”
“It will be if the judge agrees.”
Julian sat on the sofa.
Brooks returned Ivy to Rebecca only after Rebecca’s hands stopped shaking.
That night, Rebecca dreamed she was back in the boardroom. Each time Julian asked why Ivy had his eyes, Rebecca opened her mouth and discovered she had no voice.
She woke at 3:17 to Ivy crying.
For several seconds, she did not know where she was.
Then the small room returned: bassinet, chair, gray curtains, digital clock. Rebecca lifted Ivy, fed her, and sat in the dark.
Her phone showed a message from Julian sent through the parenting application at 11:42 p.m.
I was unfair about the deployment argument. It was not the same as what happened after. I am not asking you to answer.
Rebecca read it twice.
Then she opened the drawer where she kept Eleanor’s proposed trust agreement.
Ten million dollars remained ten million dollars, no matter how corrupt the offer.
The criminal case might take years. Civil litigation would consume money, attention, and pieces of Ivy’s childhood. Rebecca’s return to active duty was approaching. She had been offered a stateside assignment, but accepting it meant giving up a command track she had worked toward for a decade. Declining it meant possible relocation and a custody fight.
Every choice closed a door.
The next morning, she called Miriam.
“I want to negotiate the trust.”
Miriam was silent for a beat. “Under what terms?”
“No confidentiality about misconduct. No waiver of civil claims until the criminal investigation concludes. Independent trustee. No control by Julian or Eleanor. Funds for Ivy only.”
“That is not the offer Eleanor made.”
“It is the offer I am making.”
“And if she refuses?”
“We continue.”
Miriam exhaled. “All right.”
“I also want to amend the parenting proposal.”
“In what direction?”
“Unsupervised daytime visits after he completes the courses and the evaluator approves.”
Miriam’s silence lasted longer this time.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
“That may be the most reassuring answer.”
Julian completed infant CPR, a parenting course, and a home safety inspection. He converted a guest room in the penthouse into a nursery, then asked Rebecca to review photographs before purchasing furniture.
She rejected the imported crib because it had decorative slats too far apart.
He bought a plain certified crib from a local store.
He sent a picture after assembling it himself.
One side rail was backward.
Rebecca stared at the image for a long time, then called him.
“You installed the rear panel inside out.”
“I followed the instructions.”
“You did not.”
“The diagram is ambiguous.”
“It has arrows.”
“The arrows are emotionally ambiguous.”
She closed her eyes. “Do not put Ivy in it.”
“I gathered that.”
“I’ll come by tomorrow.”
The words escaped before she considered them.
Julian went quiet.
“For the inspection,” she added.
“Of course.”
She brought Chief Brooks.
The penthouse looked the same and completely different. Rebecca’s absence had become visible. The framed wedding photograph was gone from the entryway. Eleanor’s branches were gone. A stack of parenting books occupied the coffee table beside an untouched bowl of almonds.
Brooks examined the nursery like a ship compartment.
“Outlet covers,” she said.
“In the drawer,” Julian replied.
“Furniture anchors?”
“Installed.”
“Blind cords?”
“Removed.”
“Fire extinguisher?”
“Kitchen and hall.”
Brooks nodded reluctantly. “Adequate.”
Rebecca crouched beside the crib and corrected the panel. Julian knelt opposite her.
Their hands reached for the same screw.
Both stopped.
“Go ahead,” he said.
She tightened it.
On the shelf above the changing table stood the stuffed elephant from his first visit.
“She still cannot sleep with that,” Rebecca said.
“I know. It watches from a safe distance.”
Brooks muttered, “Decorative father, decorative elephant.”
Julian smiled.
After the inspection, Brooks took Ivy to the kitchen to prepare a bottle, leaving Rebecca and Julian in the nursery.
Rebecca looked around.
“You kept the apartment.”
“I didn’t know what else to do with it.”
“You could sell.”
“I may.”
The room faced east. Morning light spread across the pale rug.
Julian leaned against the dresser. “The board asked whether I will return.”
“What did you say?”
“Not yet.”
“You want to?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is unusual.”
“I am experimenting.”
Rebecca glanced at him.
He continued. “If I return, it will be under a new governance structure. No family board seat. Independent chair. Clawback of unauthorized payments.”
“Eleanor will fight.”
“Yes.”
“She could lose most of her influence.”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“I could lose the job.”
Rebecca looked toward the crib.
“You once told me Summit was the only thing your father trusted you to inherit.”
“He did not trust me to inherit it. He trusted my mother to keep me useful.”
The bitterness in his voice sounded new.
“Do not rebuild your life around proving something to a dead man,” Rebecca said.
“I spent ten years doing that.”
“I know.”
He looked at her. “You spent ten years proving no one could make you need them.”
May you like
The sentence struck hard enough that she straightened.
“That is not fair.”
