Chương 7
Elise placed Noah into his arms.
Daniel held him too high at first. Elise corrected the angle without touching him.
“Support his neck.”
“I am.”
“More.”
He adjusted.
Noah opened his eyes.
Daniel looked down.
The room changed, though nothing visible moved.
“Hello,” he whispered.
His voice broke on the second syllable.
Elise turned toward the window.
Below them, a bakery employee carried a chalkboard sign to the sidewalk. A bus sighed at the curb. Someone laughed too loudly inside a parked car.
Daniel sat with Noah for seven minutes before speaking again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t use his name.”
Elise looked at him.
“You noticed,” he said.
“Yes.”
“I was afraid I didn’t deserve to.”
“You didn’t.”
He nodded.
No argument. No reasonable explanation.
Noah yawned.
Daniel watched the yawn as though it were a private message.
“I bought some things,” he said. “The pharmacy bag. Vitamin drops, diapers, the cream the nurse mentioned. I can leave them.”
“We have supplies.”
“I know. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Elise looked at the paper bag.
He had always bought objects when language failed him. After their first serious fight, he brought her a stand mixer. She did not bake. He had returned it two weeks later and given the money to the community center because she asked him to.
“What did Elwood say?” she asked.
Daniel’s attention remained on Noah.
“He said his associate made a preliminary technical assessment, not a verification. My mother overstated it.”
“That’s convenient.”
“I agree.”
“Do you?”
He looked up.
“I fired the associate from any work connected to us.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
Daniel swallowed.
“Elwood says the original email is gone from my mother’s inbox.”
“How?”
“She deleted it.”
“When?”
“She says she doesn’t know.”
“And the trash folder?”
“Empty.”
“Of course.”
“I asked the firm to preserve their copy.”
“Did they?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell them not to alter metadata?”
“Yes.”
Elise studied his face.
“Who are you protecting?”
“No one.”
“That was too fast.”
His mouth tightened, then relaxed.
“My mother raised me,” he said. “She ran the company after my father died. She made every crisis smaller. Even when she caused one, she made herself look like the only person capable of solving it.”
Lynn shifted papers at the table, giving them the privacy of pretending not to hear.
Daniel continued. “Part of me still waits for her to explain this in a way that lets me keep the mother I thought I had.”
“That’s honest.”
“It’s also weak.”
“Yes.”
He looked back at Noah.
“I don’t know who created the screenshot,” he said. “But I know she wanted it to be true.”
The statement landed more heavily than an accusation.
Elise had known Vivian disliked her. Dislike was manageable. Wanting Noah not to belong to Daniel was something else.
“Why?” she asked.
Daniel rubbed one thumb across the edge of Noah’s sleeve.
“Because she thought you would leave eventually.”
“That makes no sense.”
“She thought if the child was mine, you would have permanent leverage.”
“A baby isn’t leverage.”
“To her, everyone is leverage.”
“Even you?”
He gave a small, humorless smile.
“Especially me.”
Noah began to fuss. Daniel’s body stiffened.
“He’s hungry,” Elise said.
“I can give him back.”
“You have to.”
The words came out sharper than she intended.
Daniel rose and placed Noah in her arms. His hands lingered for half a second beneath the baby’s weight, then withdrew.
Elise covered herself with a nursing cloth and began to feed him.
Daniel looked away toward the bookcase.
“What happens now?” he asked.
“You visit again next week.”
“I meant us.”
“I know.”
He folded his hands.
“I started seeing a therapist.”
Elise almost smiled.
“Yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“One appointment.”
“Yes.”
“And now you’re a new man.”
“No.” His answer came quickly. “I spent most of it explaining why I didn’t think therapy would help.”
“That sounds more like you.”
His mouth moved as if he might laugh, but the moment passed.
“I’m not asking you to come home,” he said. “I’m asking whether there is anything I can do that would matter.”
“Find out who made the document.”
“I’m trying.”
“Without protecting your mother.”
He looked at her.
“That may mean she loses more than access to Noah.”
“Yes.”
He nodded slowly.
“All right.”
The next week brought small humiliations.
Elise’s maternity leave paperwork had been submitted under the wrong date because the community center’s director assumed Daniel’s insurance would cover everything. The insurance company requested documentation from the hospital. The hospital billing office sent the request to the Mercer house. Vivian’s assistant forwarded it to Daniel rather than Elise.
Noah developed a rash beneath his chin.
Mara fell asleep at the kitchen table after a night shift and woke with the pattern of a placemat pressed into her cheek.
Elise cried in a grocery store because the brand of diapers she wanted was out of stock.
None of these events deserved the intensity they carried. Together they made each day feel like a hallway filled with doors that opened into smaller hallways.
Daniel visited twice.
The first time he brought nothing.
The second time he arrived with a notebook and asked Elise to show him how she recorded feedings.
“You have an app,” she said.
“I want to use what you use.”
“It’s not a moral system, Daniel. It’s a notebook.”
“I know.”
He wrote down the time Noah ate, then asked how long to count.
“Until he stops.”
“What if he pauses?”
“Wait.”
“How long?”
“You cannot negotiate with him.”
Daniel looked at Noah.
“I negotiate with everyone.”
“That’s why this may be good for you.”
A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
It was the first moment between them that resembled their old life. Elise felt warmth, then anger at the warmth.
She stood abruptly and went to the bathroom.
May you like
When she returned, Daniel was humming.
He had sung to Noah during the pregnancy, mostly old songs with half the words wrong. Now he hummed because he did not trust himself to say anything permanent.
