Chương 7
Claire watched until they disappeared.
“What happens if I do nothing?” she asked.
“To Mercer?” Martin said.
“Yes.”
“That is not our area.”
“But you know.”
He hesitated.
“From what we’ve learned, they have serious liquidity problems.”
“How serious?”
“Serious enough to explain desperation. Not enough to justify any of this.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Martin sighed.
“If Mercer cannot refinance, lenders may force changes. Ownership could be diluted or transferred. Parts of the business could be sold. Management could change. Jobs could be affected.”
“Could the whole company fail?”
“It’s possible.”
Claire looked down at the hotel entrance.
“Six hundred people.”
“Approximately.”
“And if I give them forty million?”
Beth said, “We would first evaluate whether the investment served your interests and complied with the trust’s terms.”
“Could you stop me?”
“Depending on structure, we could refuse to facilitate it.”
Claire turned.
“So Eleanor needed me to pressure you too.”
“Perhaps.”
Claire laughed without humor.
“She thought marrying me would be easier than convincing a trust officer.”
Beth’s expression barely changed.
“I have met wealthy families with stranger strategies.”
Martin looked at her.
“Beth.”
“What? It’s true.”
Nora smiled into her coffee.
For two days, Claire did very little.
That surprised everyone except Nora.
Martin expected questions.
Daniel expected anger.
Eleanor expected action.
Claire slept.
She ordered grilled cheese from room service and ate half of it cold at midnight. She watched a documentary about coral reefs without absorbing a single fact. She took three showers one day because she kept remembering the rain in the hangar and feeling chilled.
On the second afternoon, she went home while Daniel was at the office.
He had kept his promise.
Nothing had been moved.
Her coat was still draped over the dining chair where she left it.
Two wineglasses remained in the dishwasher.
A grocery list in Daniel’s handwriting sat on the counter.
Oat milk. Lemons. Claire cereal.
He never remembered the name of the cereal.
She stood holding the list until her hands hurt.
Then she put it back exactly where it had been.
Upstairs, she packed practical clothes.
Sweaters.
Jeans.
Underwear.
Her prescription migraine medication.
The ugly slippers her father gave her as a joke one Christmas and which turned out to be unbelievably comfortable.
She left her wedding dress.
She left most jewelry.
She took a framed photograph of her father asleep in a fishing chair with a paperback open on his chest.
On Daniel’s bedside table sat a photograph from their wedding.
Claire turned it facedown.
Then she turned it upright again.
She did not know why.
When she came downstairs, Daniel was sitting at the kitchen island.
She stopped.
“You said you’d be at the office.”
“I was.”
“You came back.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked toward the suitcases.
“I wanted to see you.”
“That’s not a reason to violate the one thing I asked.”
“You asked me not to come to the hotel.”
Claire set the suitcase handle down.
Daniel winced.
“That sounded worse out loud.”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
She almost walked out.
Instead she sat at the opposite end of the island.
“I have one question.”
“Okay.”
“Did you ever tell your mother you wouldn’t ask me for the money?”
Daniel stared at his hands.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“About six months after we started dating.”
“Before you proposed?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
“That I was confusing the plan with the person.”
Claire felt something cold move through her.
“And what did you say?”
“I told her there was no plan anymore.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
Daniel looked up.
“Because the minute I told you how it started, I would lose the right to decide what it became.”
She frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“I wanted you to believe the part that was real without knowing the part that wasn’t.”
“That is a very polished way to say you lied.”
“I know.”
“No, Daniel. You keep saying that like knowing makes you less responsible.”
He nodded.
“You’re right.”
She hated that too.
He looked thinner than he had three nights earlier.
A coffee cup sat beside him, half full.
Claire glanced at it and nearly laughed.
“Do you have any idea how much I hate that you still leave coffee everywhere?”
He looked at the cup.
“No.”
“I’ve hated it for two years.”
“You never said anything.”
“It felt petty.”
“It is petty.”
“I know.”
They both laughed.
Claire covered her eyes.
“This is horrible.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to laugh with you.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Okay.”
Silence settled between them.
Daniel reached for the coffee and drank it cold.
Claire remembered Nora’s warning about villain boxes.
She almost wished Daniel would threaten her.
Defend himself.
Blame Eleanor.
Anything simple.
Instead he looked at the countertop.
Finally Claire asked, “Did you know about the forty million before our wedding?”
“No.”
“Did you know she still wanted access to the trust?”
“Yes.”
“Did you think she would stop?”
“I told myself she would.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know she contacted Beth’s office this week?”
“Not until yesterday afternoon.”
“Did you know I was supposed to sign something in New York?”
“Yes.”
“When did you find out?”
“The morning of your birthday.”
Claire stood.
Daniel stood too.
“You had a full day.”
“I know.”
“Daniel.”
“Sorry.”
She shoved the chair beneath the island.
“You had a full day to tell me.”
“Yes.”
“And instead you took my phone.”
He looked sick.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Martin kept calling.”
There it was.
The ugliest answer.
No excuse.
No language around it.
Claire nodded slowly.
“And if I had gotten on the plane?”
Daniel’s eyes filled, though he did not cry.
“I don’t know.”
“Would you have let me sign?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“I know it isn’t.”
“Would you?”
He looked at her.
For a long time, neither moved.
Then Daniel whispered, “I think I would have stopped it.”
“You think.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“After I signed?”
May you like
“No.”
“Before?”
