Chương 10
“That’s annoying.”
Daniel smiled in the darkness.
“It really is.”
Morning came gray and slow.
Maintenance crews cleared enough snow for the train to move shortly after seven.
Sophie slept through the first jolt of motion.
Daniel did not.
He had slept perhaps forty minutes.
His phone contained messages from everyone his postponed life had continued without him.
His chief operating officer wanted approval on a financing call.
His sister had sent seven question marks.
The wedding planner still needed an answer about the flowers.
Daniel called Lauren first.
She answered on the second ring.
“Are you alive?”
“Yes.”
“Because you sent me a message at eleven-thirty saying, Call me when you wake up, and then apparently decided I should die of curiosity.”
“Something happened.”
Her voice changed immediately.
“With Sophie?”
“She’s safe.”
“Daniel.”
He told her.
Not everything.
Enough.
Lauren swore so loudly that Daniel held the phone away from his ear.
“Do not come home with that woman.”
“Lauren.”
“I mean it.”
“I need you not to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Turn it into the thing you’ve been waiting to be right about.”
Silence.
Lauren had disliked Victoria from the first Christmas dinner, when Victoria corrected her pronunciation of a French wine and Lauren responded by drinking beer from the bottle for the rest of the evening.
“I’m not happy about being right,” Lauren said.
“You sound a little happy.”
“I’m furious.”
“So am I.”
“Then end it.”
Daniel looked at Sophie sleeping beside him.
“It isn’t that simple.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No.”
“She humiliated your child.”
“Yes.”
“She lied to you.”
“Yes.”
“She told Sophie you’d get tired of her.”
“Yes.”
“What exactly are we workshopping here?”
Daniel rubbed his eyes.
“The fact that I’m part of how we got here.”
Lauren went quiet.
“That doesn’t make what Victoria did your fault.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
“Good.”
“But I left them together constantly and ignored things because it was convenient.”
“You trusted your fiancée.”
“I ignored my daughter.”
Lauren exhaled.
“Okay.”
The anger in her voice changed shape.
“I’ve got Sophie’s room ready whenever you need it.”
“We’re going home.”
“To your house?”
“Yes.”
“Victoria lives there.”
“I know.”
“How’s that going to work?”
Daniel looked out at mountains barely visible through the storm.
“I don’t know.”
Lauren gave a humorless laugh.
“Good talk.”
He smiled despite himself.
“I need a favor.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t say I told you so.”
“I would never.”
“Lauren.”
“Fine. I will think it with enormous intensity.”
“Fair.”
“And Daniel?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to decide your entire life before breakfast.”
He looked at Sophie.
“I know.”
“Just decide what keeps her safe today.”
That he could do.
Victoria was in the dining car at eight.
The carpet had finally been cleaned.
Mostly.
A dark shadow remained where the cranberry juice had soaked deepest.
The crystal glass was gone.
Daniel noticed the absence immediately and resented himself for noticing.
Victoria sat with coffee.
She had restored her hair and makeup, but not completely. There was fatigue beneath the effort.
“Where’s Sophie?”
“With Mia.”
Victoria nodded.
“Does she want to see me?”
“No.”
Her fingers tightened around the coffee cup.
“Okay.”
Daniel sat.
“I told Lauren.”
“Of course you did.”
“She’s Sophie’s emergency contact.”
“She’s also hated me since we met.”
“Yes.”
Victoria gave him a tired look.
“At least you admit it now.”
“I’m not here to make you feel surrounded.”
“What are you here to do?”
Daniel looked toward the faint stain.
“Cancel the wedding.”
Victoria did not move.
He had expected some visible reaction.
Instead she looked down at her coffee.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
That made her look up.
Daniel continued.
“I’m sure we cannot get married in six weeks.”
“That's not the same thing.”
“I know.”
“Are you ending the relationship?”
“I don’t know.”
Victoria stared at him.
“Do you love me?”
“Yes.”
The answer hurt them both.
She looked away.
“Then why does this feel so easy for you?”
“It isn’t.”
“You sound calm.”
“I’m exhausted.”
A tear slipped down Victoria’s cheek.
She wiped it away angrily.
“I hate that you get to be the reasonable one.”
“I’m not.”
“You always look reasonable.”
“I slept in my clothes and lost my daughter for twenty minutes last night.”
Victoria’s face tightened.
“You didn’t lose her.”
“That’s what it felt like.”
She stared at the table.
Daniel said, “You found her.”
Victoria nodded once.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t.”
“I mean it.”
“Please don’t turn that into evidence that I’m secretly good.”
Daniel was quiet.
Victoria laughed bitterly.
“See? I know you.”
“Yes.”
“I’m not a monster.”
“I know.”
“That somehow feels worse.”
He understood.
Monsters could be discarded without grief.
People could not.
Victoria lifted her coffee.
Her hand shook hard enough that she put the cup back down.
“I poured the juice because I wanted to humiliate her.”
Daniel said nothing.
“I’ve been trying to find a nicer sentence.”
“There probably isn’t one.”
“No.”
She looked toward the carpet.
“I wanted her to feel small.”
The admission cost her something. Daniel could see it.
“I thought if she felt the consequences of pushing me, she would stop.”
“She’s five.”
Victoria gave a short laugh.
“There it is.”
“There it is.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
They sat with the noise of the moving train.
Finally Victoria said, “My mother did things like that.”
Daniel looked at her.
She almost smiled.
“I know how convenient that sounds.”
“You’ve never talked about your mother much.”
“There wasn’t much to say.”
“That’s usually not true.”
Victoria looked out the window.
“She believed embarrassment was educational.”
Daniel waited.
“If I forgot something at school, she made me explain it to the teacher while she stood there. If I spilled something at a restaurant, she made me ask the waiter for the cleaning supplies. If I cried, she said crying was trying to control the room.”
“Victoria.”
“I’m not asking you to excuse me.”
May you like
“Good.”
“I’m telling you I knew exactly what I was doing.”
