Chương 15
“Your reputation is public. That is not the same thing.”
“It is in my profession.”
Rachel placed both hands on the table. “Listen to me. Marcus wants you defending your ethics instead of investigating the substitution. Vivienne wants the public deciding you are unreliable before she is asked why her company financed the seller. Do not help them by turning this into a debate about whether you are a good person.”
“I’m not a good person.”
Lydia stopped cutting apples.
Rachel sat back.
Elena looked at the letter on the screen. “I knew the rules. I changed the language of my report because I wanted the appointment. I didn’t invent evidence, but I presented uncertainty as certainty. If I hide behind the assault, I am doing a cleaner version of what Marcus did.”
“No one is suggesting you hide.”
“You are suggesting I wait until confession is strategically useful.”
“I am suggesting you avoid confessing before we know what crimes you may be accused of.”
“Those are the same sentence in different clothes.”
Rachel’s face hardened. “You hired me to protect you.”
“I hired you to advise me.”
“Then here is my advice: Do not make a public statement today.”
Elena looked at Lydia.
Her sister set the knife beside the cutting board. “I think you should listen to Rachel.”
The answer hurt, though it was sensible.
Lydia continued, “For one day.”
“Why one?”
“Because you haven’t slept. Because your face is on television. Because you are angry enough to mistake punishment for honesty.”
Elena turned away.
The boys came running into the kitchen. The younger one stopped when he saw her bruised eye.
“Aunt Elena,” he said, “you look like a pirate.”
His older brother shoved him. “You can’t say that.”
“Why?”
“Because she got hurt.”
“Pirates get hurt.”
Lydia closed her eyes.
Elena touched the swollen skin beneath her eye. “It’s accurate.”
The younger boy seemed relieved.
“Do you have a sword?”
“No.”
“Then you’re not a very good pirate.”
Lydia sent them to wash their hands.
For several seconds the adults listened to the argument continue down the hallway.
Rachel gathered the papers. “One day.”
Elena nodded.
That evening Gabriel arrived.
He stood in Lydia’s entryway with a small suitcase and a coat damp from sleet. His dark hair was longer than Elena remembered, curling above his ears. He had lost weight. Or perhaps she had not seen him in person since pregnancy changed the scale by which she judged bodies.
He did not approach her immediately.
His eyes moved across the bruising, the stitches, the split lip, the yellowing marks on her arms. The muscles in his jaw tightened.
Elena sat on the sofa with one hand over her abdomen.
“Hello,” she said.
“Hello.”
Lydia took his coat and disappeared upstairs with unnecessary speed.
Gabriel remained near the door.
“You can sit.”
He chose the armchair opposite her.
Between them stood a coffee table covered with crayons, a remote control, and a cardboard model of the solar system missing Saturn.
“How was the flight?” Elena asked.
“Bad.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“That’s true.”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
Elena watched him try to arrange his emotions into something she could tolerate.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said.
“Do what?”
“Make yourself calm.”
“I’m not calm.”
“I know.”
“I want to kill him.”
“That would be inconvenient.”
Gabriel looked at her.
The corner of his mouth moved, then stopped. “You’re making jokes.”
“Barely.”
He leaned back.
“Can I see her?” he asked.
Elena looked down.
The baby shifted beneath her palm as though responding to the attention.
Gabriel waited.
Elena held out her hand.
He moved from the chair to the sofa, slowly enough to give her time to change her mind. She placed his palm against the side of her abdomen.
For several seconds nothing happened.
Then the baby kicked.
Gabriel’s breath caught.
He left his hand where it was.
Elena watched his face change in quiet increments: surprise, relief, grief, something like apology.
“She does that after I eat,” Elena said.
“Does what?”
“Kicks on the right.”
“She kicked me on the left.”
“Then perhaps she dislikes you.”
“Reasonable.”
His hand remained beneath hers.
The contact was not romantic. It was stranger and more difficult than that. They were touching the same future from opposite sides of a body that had become both Elena’s and not entirely hers.
Gabriel looked at her injuries again.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t want you to come because you felt obligated.”
“I am obligated.”
“That is exactly the problem.”
“No. The problem is you think obligation contaminates care.”
Elena removed her hand from his.
Gabriel left his palm against her abdomen until the baby moved away.
Then he sat back.
“I booked the hotel for a week,” he said.
“You don’t need a week.”
“I have a return ticket I can change.”
“You should not make plans around this.”
“This is not an interruption to my life.”
“It interrupted your job.”
“I canceled a hotel shoot.”
“You wanted that contract.”
“I wanted to meet my daughter more.”
Elena stood carefully.
Gabriel rose at once, reaching toward her without touching.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“You’re moving like you’re not.”
“I was told to move slowly.”
“Then move slowly.”
The irritation in his voice sounded almost domestic. Elena hated how much she wanted it.
She walked toward the kitchen for water.
Gabriel followed halfway and stopped.
“I’m not asking you to move back,” she said.
“I didn’t ask to.”
“I can’t promise what you want.”
“What do I want?”
“Access without conditions.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “I want to be called when you’re in danger.”
“That’s not a parenting agreement.”
“No. It’s a human agreement.”
Elena opened the refrigerator and stared at shelves crowded with juice boxes, yogurt, leftover pasta, and six different condiments arranged without order.
May you like
“I don’t know how to do this,” she said.
Gabriel’s answer came gently. “I know.”
