Chương 2
“You don’t get to—”
Her voice rose.
Noah flinched.
Vanessa saw it.
So did Ethan.
She stopped immediately.
That tiny interruption changed something more decisively than shouting would have.
Ethan adjusted Noah against his chest.
“Upstairs.”
Vanessa’s eyes filled, though the tears did not fall.
“You are humiliating me in front of employees.”
Ethan glanced toward the security men.
“Both of you stay there.”
Then to Maria.
“Take Noah to the library.”
Noah refused to release him.
Maria noticed before Ethan did.
“He may not go with me right now.”
Ethan looked down.
Noah had both hands hooked into his lapel.
“Okay.”
It was the first uncertain word Ethan had spoken since entering.
Maria heard that too.
“I can bring his milk.”
“No.”
Noah whimpered when Maria stepped away.
Ethan corrected himself.
“Sorry. Yes. Please.”
Maria nodded.
She crossed the foyer quickly.
At the edge of the room, she stopped.
“Mr. Blackwood.”
He turned.
Maria had worked for him for eighteen months and almost never used his first name. Even after Claire died. Even after Vanessa repeatedly told her the household was “informal now,” as though saying a thing could make it true.
Maria looked at Noah.
Then at Ethan.
“Don’t leave him alone with her tonight.”
Vanessa inhaled sharply.
Ethan’s face did not change.
“I won’t.”
Maria left.
Vanessa watched her disappear down the hall.
Then she laughed once.
It was not amusement. It was the sound a person makes when disbelief needs somewhere to go.
“This is what she wanted.”
Ethan said nothing.
“She’s been waiting for this.”
“For what?”
“For you to turn on me.”
“You think Maria wants my marriage?”
“I think Maria wants Claire’s house frozen exactly the way Claire left it.”
Ethan’s jaw moved.
Vanessa saw she had hit something and stepped into it.
“She hates every change I make. Every room. Every schedule. Every decision about Noah. She still acts like Claire is going to walk downstairs and approve her work.”
“Stop.”
“You know it’s true.”
“I said stop.”
“She worked for your wife. She was loyal to your wife. Not me.”
Ethan shifted Noah higher on his shoulder.
The child had stopped crying, but his breathing remained uneven.
“You should go upstairs.”
Vanessa looked toward the open doors again.
“Are they keeping me prisoner?”
“No.”
“Then tell them to leave.”
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know what happened in my house.”
“Our house.”
Ethan looked at her.
It took only that.
Vanessa’s expression hardened.
“Fine.”
She turned toward the staircase.
At the first step, she stopped.
“If you choose her version of this before you hear mine, that’s on you.”
“I haven’t chosen anything.”
“You already moved me out of my bedroom.”
“For one night.”
“Same message.”
She climbed the stairs.
Her cream heels struck the marble softly, then disappeared into carpet.
Ethan waited until he heard the west-wing door close.
Only then did he lower his head.
Noah’s locket was still clutched between them.
The silver edge dug into Ethan’s shirt.
He carried his son to the library.
Maria had already turned on the small lamp beside the sofa. The larger ceiling lights were off. Noah usually liked the room because Ethan kept an old wooden train set on the bottom shelf, something his own father had bought him when he was a boy and something he had never allowed decorators to remove.
Maria set a cup of warm milk on the side table.
Ethan sat.
Noah stayed attached to him.
“Do you want this?”
Noah shook his head.
Maria folded her hands.
Ethan looked at her.
“How long?”
She did not answer immediately.
That frightened him more than if she had.
“How long, Maria?”
“A few weeks.”
His eyes sharpened.
“Few meaning?”
“Maybe six.”
“Six weeks.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
Her face tightened.
“I tried.”
“When?”
“After Boston.”
He searched his memory.
The result was ugly.
He remembered the airport lounge. A delayed flight. Vanessa texting him about a caterer. Noah’s pediatric appointment appearing on his calendar and being moved by his assistant. Maria calling twice.
He had called her back while walking between gates.
She had said, I’m worried about something Vanessa is doing with Noah.
He had interrupted.
He remembered that now.
Not the exact words after that. Only his own irritation.
Can this wait until I’m home?
Then he had not asked when he got home.
He looked away.
Maria’s voice was careful.
“You said you would speak to me Saturday.”
He had spent Saturday at a charity golf event.
“Why didn’t you come to me again?”
“I did.”
He looked back at her.
“Sunday morning. Outside the breakfast room.”
Ethan remembered Vanessa entering halfway through that conversation.
Maria had been saying something about Noah refusing to enter the upstairs sitting room.
Vanessa had smiled and said, “We’re working on some attachment issues.”
Ethan had accepted that phrase because it sounded like something adults understood.
He had kissed Noah’s head, checked his watch and left.
His silver watch felt suddenly heavy against his wrist.
“What does punishment mean?”
Maria looked at Noah.
“He shouldn’t hear all of this.”
Ethan nearly said he’s two.
Then he heard Vanessa’s voice saying the same thing.
He swallowed.
“You’re right.”
Maria looked surprised.
“I can take him to my room.”
“No.”
The answer came too fast.
Maria waited.
Ethan rubbed Noah’s back again.
“I mean, I don’t want him away from me yet.”
“That’s okay.”
“Could you get his pajamas?”
“Yes.”
“And his rabbit.”
“Blue one?”
“I didn’t know there was another.”
Maria stared at him for half a second, then looked away.
“There isn’t.”
It was such a small thing.
It hurt more than accusation.
Ethan closed his eyes.
“Right.”
Maria went upstairs.
Noah finally reached for the milk.
May you like
Ethan held the cup while his son drank.
He could negotiate acquisitions involving hundreds of employees without notes. He could tell when a banker was hiding weak numbers before the second slide. He knew exactly how much debt his company could tolerate at three different interest-rate assumptions.
