Chương 12
It had been Lily’s request.
“I want both of you,” she said.
Daniel considered refusing.
Then he remembered telling her she could love someone he was angry with.
The course had a fake windmill, a plastic pirate ship, and water dyed an alarming shade of blue.
Lily cheated twice.
Aaron accused her the second time.
“I did not.”
“You moved the ball with your shoe.”
“It was in a bad place.”
“That is the entire game.”
Daniel kept score.
At hole nine, Aaron missed a simple shot.
Lily laughed so hard she dropped her club.
Aaron looked offended.
“I am recovering from a difficult period.”
“You’re bad,” Lily said.
“There’s compassion.”
Daniel smiled.
For an hour they were not the people from the chapel.
Then Lily saw a wedding party taking photographs near the park.
Her smile faded.
Daniel noticed.
Aaron did too.
Neither spoke immediately.
Lily watched a bride adjust her dress while two bridesmaids fixed the train.
“Do you think Rebecca hates me?”
Aaron’s face tightened.
“No.”
Daniel put down his pencil.
“She doesn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“She asked people to leave you out of everything.”
“That doesn’t mean she likes me.”
“No.”
Daniel thought.
“But I talked to her. She misses you too.”
Lily looked at him.
“You said that?”
“She said it.”
“What did you say?”
“That you missed her.”
Lily’s eyes widened.
“You told her?”
Daniel immediately realized the mistake.
“You’re right. I should have asked.”
“I didn’t want her to know.”
“Okay.”
“Why did you tell her?”
“Because I thought it might help.”
“That’s what Dad said.”
Aaron shut his eyes.
Daniel stared at Lily.
She was not accusing him cruelly.
That made it worse.
“You’re right.”
Lily crossed her arms.
Daniel crouched slightly.
“I’m sorry.”
She studied him.
“Adults are really bad at secrets.”
Aaron laughed once.
Daniel looked at him.
“Not helping.”
Lily uncrossed her arms.
“Can we finish?”
“Yes.”
At hole ten she cheated again.
Daniel let her.
Aaron did not.
A month later Rebecca’s divorce from Aaron was finalized.
Daniel learned from Aaron, not Rebecca.
His brother sent one line.
It’s done.
Daniel stared at the message for several minutes.
For six weeks, that legal fact had hung over every conversation.
Now it existed.
And nothing else changed.
Rebecca was free to marry.
Daniel had never felt farther from marrying her.
That evening, she sent him a message.
I assume Aaron told you. I won’t contact you again unless you ask. I’m sorry for everything I chose after I knew the truth.
Daniel read it.
He did not answer.
The following morning he removed their engagement photograph from the shelf in his office.
Not because he had made a final decision.
Because he was tired of explaining it to people who did not ask.
He placed it in a drawer.
Then he went to work.
Summer moved forward.
Lily spent two weeks with Maya in Seattle and sent Daniel photographs of ferries, a giant troll sculpture, pancakes, and one blurry seal.
Aaron attended meetings.
Carol stopped asking whether Daniel had spoken to Rebecca.
Marcus convinced him to take three days off and then regretted it when Daniel spent the first morning sending emails.
Hannah took a job with a hotel group.
Daniel heard that through Carol, who heard everything.
The wedding suit remained in the closet.
In August, Daniel received an envelope.
Not crimson.
Plain white.
His name was written by hand.
He nearly left it unopened.
Inside was the antique gold ring.
There was also a short letter from Rebecca.
The ring belongs to a marriage that Aaron and I both avoided finishing properly. I don’t want it. He doesn’t want it. Your attorney said the evidence no longer needs to be retained, but if that is wrong, give it back to her.
I am not sending this as a symbol.
I am sending it because it was left in your possession on the worst day of your life, and it should not stay there because nobody wanted to decide what to do with it.
That sounded like Rebecca.
Not the polished woman in the navy lace dress.
Not the frightened woman trying to compress six weeks into a mistake.
The Rebecca who hated clutter.
Daniel called Erin.
“Why do I have a wedding ring?”
“Good afternoon to you too.”
“Did you tell Rebecca she could send it to me?”
“No.”
“She says my attorney said it didn’t need to be retained.”
“I’m not your attorney.”
“You say that whenever convenient.”
“Because it remains true.”
Daniel looked at the ring.
“What do I do with it?”
“It belongs to whoever owns it.”
“Excellent legal work.”
“Bill is in the mail.”
He smiled.
“Do I send it to Aaron?”
“Ask him.”
So Daniel did.
Aaron replied:
Throw it in a river.
Daniel called him.
“I’m not throwing evidence into a river.”
“It’s not evidence anymore.”
“I’m still not doing it.”
“Pawn it.”
“It has your initials.”
“Then nobody will want it.”
“You bought it.”
“Rebecca bought it.”
Daniel paused.
“Of course she did.”
“She made more money.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Aaron sighed.
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to see it again.”
Daniel understood.
He placed the ring in the drawer beside the engagement photograph.
Not as a symbol.
Because he had a meeting.
In September, Rebecca asked to see him.
Daniel almost said no.
Then he realized that after three months of not speaking, no was beginning to feel less like protection and more like avoidance.
They met in a public garden near the river.
Rebecca wore jeans and a dark green sweater despite the afternoon being warm. She carried no bag.
Daniel brought the ring in his pocket.
They walked.
For several minutes neither addressed why they were there.
Rebecca complained about a cyclist who nearly hit a toddler.
Daniel pointed out a badly repaired brick wall.
She told him normal people did not inspect mortar on dates.
May you like
“This isn’t a date.”
“I know.”
