Chương 8
Claire’s phone filled with messages.
Some supportive.
Some curious.
Some grotesque.
A former college classmate she had not spoken to in nine years wrote:
Saw the news. Thinking of you. Also if you need crisis PR my husband knows someone AMAZING.
Claire deleted it.
Her cousin called and said, “Tell me he’s going to prison.”
“Nobody has been charged with anything.”
“Yet.”
“Please stop.”
“I’m on your side.”
“I know. Stop anyway.”
Public opinion moved before facts.
People who had praised Ethan as a visionary began posting old stories about his temper.
Former employees described him as demanding.
Current employees defended him.
One anonymous account claimed Claire had orchestrated the investigation as revenge because Ethan left her after the accident.
That one traveled.
Claire read it at two in the morning.
Then again at two fifteen.
Then a thread accusing her of using disability for sympathy.
She kept reading until Daniel called the next morning and asked why she sounded terrible.
“I discovered the internet.”
“You knew about the internet.”
“Not this part.”
“Stop reading.”
“Very sophisticated counsel.”
“I charge eight hundred dollars an hour to say obvious things with confidence.”
Claire laughed.
Then cried immediately afterward.
Daniel pretended not to notice.
That afternoon, Claire went to physical therapy.
Nina placed a walker in front of her.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I’m tired.”
“Excellent.”
“I hate you.”
“Also excellent.”
Claire stood.
Her left leg trembled.
Online, strangers were debating whether she was manipulative, brave, pathetic, vindictive, brilliant, crippled, wealthy, greedy, humiliated, or calculating.
Inside the rehabilitation gym, Claire took four steps.
Then six.
Then three backward because Nina made her repeat the turn.
Nobody applauded.
Claire was grateful.
A week after the jet, Ethan requested a private meeting.
Daniel advised against it unless attorneys were present.
Claire refused his advice.
Daniel stared at her across the conference table.
“Why do people pay lawyers and then do the opposite?”
“I want to hear him without billing increments.”
“That is not a legal reason.”
“No.”
“Do not discuss settlement terms.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not accuse him of crimes.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not agree to anything.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not let him manipulate you.”
Claire raised an eyebrow.
Daniel sighed.
“Fine. That last one was not legal advice.”
They met at the townhouse.
Ethan had not been there in nearly a month.
When Maria opened the door for him, he looked uncomfortable.
Claire was in the kitchen making coffee.
Standing.
Mostly.
One hand braced against the counter.
Ethan stopped when he saw her.
Claire noticed.
She hated that his surprise pleased her.
“You’re walking.”
“A little.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“We’re separated.”
He absorbed that.
“Right.”
Claire lowered herself into a chair.
Ethan sat across from her.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
The refrigerator made a clicking sound.
Maria had left a bowl of peaches on the counter.
Ethan looked thinner.
He had shaved, but not carefully. There was a small nick beside his jaw.
Claire had the irrational urge to point it out.
Instead she asked, “Coffee?”
“No.”
“You always want coffee.”
“I already had three.”
“That explains your personality.”
The joke came automatically.
They both almost smiled.
That was awful.
Ethan looked down at his hands.
“The board placed me on administrative leave.”
“I heard.”
“Did you?”
“Daniel told me this morning.”
“Of course he did.”
“Don’t.”
Ethan looked up.
“Don’t what?”
“Make everything about who has access to me.”
He leaned back.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
A pause.
Then he nodded.
“Maybe.”
It was the first unguarded word Claire had heard from him in months.
She waited.
Ethan rubbed his watchband.
“I didn’t think Red Harbor was theft.”
Claire’s chest tightened.
“Careful.”
“I’m not asking you to agree.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Explaining.”
“I’m not sure I want that.”
“I know.”
That surprised her.
Ethan stared toward the windows.
“The company was under pressure after the Arizona acquisition. We needed strategic work done without putting everything through the main procurement process.”
“Why?”
“Speed.”
“Convenience.”
“Yes.”
“Secrecy.”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
Claire’s fingers tightened around her coffee mug.
“Vanessa’s brother created Red Harbor?”
“Yes.”
“On whose idea?”
“Mine.”
The answer hurt because it was clean.
“What work did it do?”
“Some was real. Consultants. Political-risk analysis on routes. Communications. Acquisition diligence.”
“And Vanessa’s apartment?”
Ethan’s jaw moved.
Claire waited.
He looked at her.
“I authorized compensation outside her normal package.”
“Through her brother’s company.”
“Yes.”
“For an apartment.”
“Yes.”
“Using corporate funds.”
“It was structured as a retention benefit.”
Claire laughed once.
Ethan flinched.
“That phrase is disgusting.”
“I know how it sounds.”
“No. I don’t think you do.”
“She was leading a major transaction.”
“She was sleeping with you.”
His eyes dropped.
The room became quiet.
Claire had imagined saying those words hundreds of times.
They offered no relief.
“How long?” she asked.
“Since February.”
Two months after the accident.
Claire looked at the peaches.
One had a bruise.
“Were you sleeping with her when she came to the hospital?”
“No.”
“When she brought me soup?”
“No.”
“When did it start?”
“Miami.”
“What happened in Miami?”
“A conference.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Ethan pressed his lips together.
Then, “We had dinner. We drank. We went back to the hotel.”
Claire waited for more.
There was none.
Of course not.
Real betrayal did not come with useful narration.
“Did you love her?”
Ethan looked genuinely uncertain.
Claire hated him for that too.
“I thought I did.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good for Vanessa.”
“That’s not fair.”
Claire stared.
Ethan closed his eyes.
“You’re right.”
She stood too quickly.
Pain shot through her lower back.
Her hand caught the counter.
Ethan rose immediately.
Claire’s entire body recoiled.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
His hands lowered.
“Sorry.”
Claire breathed through the pain.
When it passed, she sat again.
Ethan remained standing.
“You kicked my suitcase.”
The sentence seemed to surprise him.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked ashamed.
“I was angry.”
May you like
“That’s not enough.”
“I thought you were delaying the signing to humiliate me in front of Vanessa.”
