Chương 4
There it was.
Madeline felt something inside her become very still.
“Yes.”
Daniel seemed surprised.
“Yes,” she repeated. “I did.”
“She came here deliberately to destroy our engagement.”
“That doesn’t make what I did legal or reasonable.”
“You don’t even know what she did to me.”
“No. I don’t. Because you didn’t tell me she existed.”
“I told you I’d been engaged before.”
“You said you had a serious relationship that ended badly.”
“That’s not materially different.”
Madeline stared at him.
“You proposed to her with the ring I have in my purse.”
“The ring was returned to me.”
“That is materially different.”
Daniel leaned back.
“You’re angry.”
“No kidding.”
“You’re also in shock. I’m asking you not to decide everything tonight.”
Madeline almost smiled.
That sentence sounded so reasonable.
That was Daniel’s greatest talent. He could make control sound like patience.
“What happened to the wedding plans with Sophie?”
“We canceled them.”
“Why?”
“I told you. It became unhealthy.”
“That’s not a reason. That’s a label.”
He looked toward the corridor.
“Her father got sick. She became volatile. She started accusing me of prioritizing work.”
Madeline thought of Sophie flinching when Daniel had moved toward the pool.
“What work?”
Daniel’s expression hardened.
“Madeline.”
“What work?”
“My firm was dealing with a major acquisition. I was traveling.”
“And?”
“And I made mistakes.”
“What kind?”
He stared at her.
Madeline felt cold despite the warm air.
“You cheated on her?”
“I kissed someone once.”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It mattered to her.”
“She went through my phone.”
“After?”
Daniel said nothing.
Madeline stood.
He stood too.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No.”
“Madeline.”
“I need you not to be in my apartment tonight.”
“Our apartment.”
Madeline looked at him.
The lease was in her name. He had moved in six months earlier and paid half the expenses because they had agreed that marriage should not begin with one person behaving like a guest.
“You still have your place downtown.”
“I sublet it.”
“Then get a hotel.”
His face changed.
For a second she saw the anger.
Then it disappeared.
“Fine.”
Madeline picked up her clutch.
Daniel stepped closer.
“You need representation before anyone requests the security footage.”
She stopped.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know what it shows.”
“I know what it shows.”
“You were provoked.”
“I kicked a cart.”
“She initiated physical contact.”
“I kicked a cart.”
“Stop saying it like that.”
Madeline looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because language matters.”
She nodded slowly.
“To lawyers.”
“To everyone.”
Madeline slipped the clutch under her arm.
“I think I’ve had enough help with language from you.”
She left through the glass corridor alone.
By eight the next morning, a twelve-second video of Sophie being taken into an ambulance was online.
It did not show the cart.
It showed Madeline standing beneath the rooftop awning in her emerald gown while paramedics wheeled Sophie toward the ambulance doors.
The caption read:
MYSTERY WOMAN INJURED AT CROSS ENGAGEMENT PARTY AFTER REPORTED ALTERCATION.
By nine fifteen, “mystery woman” had become “Daniel Cross’s former fiancée” on two gossip accounts.
By ten, Madeline’s office had called.
She worked as a senior development director for a cultural foundation that funded museum programs, restoration projects, and arts education. The position required two things Madeline had always believed she possessed in useful quantities: judgment and discretion.
Her boss, Anne Mercer, spoke quietly.
“I’m not asking you for details.”
“I kicked a dessert cart and it hit her.”
There was a pause.
Anne exhaled.
“Well. That is a detail.”
Madeline sat on the edge of her bed.
Daniel’s side had not been slept in.
His cuff links were still on the dresser.
“I’m sorry.”
“Is she seriously injured?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Were you arrested?”
“No.”
“Is there likely to be a complaint?”
“I don’t know.”
Anne was silent again.
“We have trustees asking questions.”
“I assumed you would.”
“The benefit is Thursday.”
Madeline closed her eyes.
For six months she had managed the foundation’s largest annual event.
“I can stay home.”
“That may be wise.”
“I’ll send everything to Claire.”
“Madeline.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t send any public statement without talking to counsel.”
Madeline looked at Daniel’s pillow.
Everyone wanted her to talk to counsel.
“Okay.”
Her mother made coffee in the kitchen.
Elaine had slept on the couch because she refused to leave Madeline alone despite insisting, twice, that she was not hovering.
When Madeline walked in, her mother was trying to operate the espresso machine without her glasses.
“You’re making hot water.”
“I know.”
“You’ve made a full cup of it.”
“I like options.”
Madeline sat at the island.
Elaine pushed the cup toward her.
“Drink your option.”
Madeline laughed softly.
It hurt.
Her mother leaned against the counter.
“Have you heard from the hospital?”
“No.”
“Daniel?”
“Seventeen times.”
“Did you answer?”
“No.”
Elaine nodded.
Madeline checked her phone again.
There was a message from an unknown number.
This is Sophie. They’re keeping me for observation. No major head injury. Stitches in my arm. Please don’t contact me again tonight.
Madeline read it three times.
Her mother watched her.
“She’s okay?”
“Mostly.”
Elaine closed her eyes briefly.
“Thank God.”
Madeline typed:
I’m sorry.
She stared at the words.
Then deleted them.
Sophie had asked not to be contacted.
Madeline set the phone face down.
Her mother poured more hot water.
After a while she said, “That ring is still in your purse.”
“I know.”
“Are you going to give it back?”
“To Daniel?”
“I meant eventually.”
Madeline looked at the purse on the counter.
“I don’t know who it belongs to.”
At eleven thirty, Daniel arrived with a lawyer.
Madeline did not let either of them inside.
They stood in the hallway of the apartment building while her mother watched through the partly open door.
The lawyer introduced herself as Meredith Cole and immediately clarified that she represented Daniel, not Madeline.
May you like
Daniel looked irritated by the clarification.
Meredith was in her forties, with gray beginning at both temples and the expression of someone accustomed to rooms where everyone else had done something avoidable.
