Chương 9
Then he stopped.
Sophie stopped too.
Leah said gently, “Sophie, you can decide if you want a hug.”
Sophie looked at Owen.
He lowered his arms.
She walked over and hugged his waist.
Owen shut his eyes.
His hands hovered above her back.
“Can I hug you?”
“Yes.”
He did.
Carefully.
Luke remained by the door.
Owen looked at him.
“Hey, buddy.”
Luke’s face closed.
“Don’t call me that.”
Owen inhaled.
“Okay.”
Silence.
Leah sat on the rug.
“Luke, where do you want to sit?”
He chose the chair farthest from Owen.
Sophie climbed onto the floor and began showing Owen the pinecone.
“I painted it.”
“I see that.”
“It has glitter.”
“A lot.”
“Mara said too much.”
From behind the one-way panel, Mara silently mouthed, I did not.
Leah’s assistant laughed.
Inside the room, Sophie continued.
“It was from your wedding.”
Owen’s face changed.
Luke saw.
“So are you still married?”
“No.”
“To Celeste?”
“No.”
“Are you going to marry Mom?”
Owen stared.
Behind the glass, Mara covered her face with one hand.
Leah said, “That’s a big question.”
Luke looked at her.
“I didn’t ask you.”
Owen almost smiled.
He controlled it.
“No,” he said. “Your mom and I are not getting married.”
“Why?”
“Because we aren’t together.”
“Because you left?”
Owen swallowed.
“That’s part of it.”
Luke’s stare sharpened.
“What’s the other part?”
Owen glanced toward the glass.
He could not see Mara, but he knew she was there.
“Because your mom gets to decide what she wants.”
Luke thought about that.
Then he nodded.
The first visit lasted thirty-two minutes.
Luke spoke for eleven of them.
When they left, he did not hug Owen.
Owen did not ask.
That night, Luke slept with his father’s letter under his pillow.
He never told Mara.
Three months after the wedding, Celeste asked to meet Mara.
Mara said no.
Celeste asked again through attorneys.
Mara said no.
The third request included a handwritten note.
I have information about Victoria that Richard does not have. I will provide it through counsel if you refuse to meet me. I am not asking for forgiveness.
Mara showed Denise.
Denise read it.
“What do you want?”
“I want to know what she knows.”
“Then we can take a statement.”
“She wants me in the room.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Denise studied the note.
“Maybe because she wants to be seen.”
“By me?”
“Especially by you.”
Mara hated the possibility.
She agreed to a meeting in Denise’s office.
Celeste arrived without the long wavy hair she had worn at the wedding.
She had cut it to her shoulders.
Mara resented noticing.
People always changed their hair after catastrophes, as if the body needed evidence that time had moved.
Celeste wore gray trousers and a navy blouse.
No diamonds.
No engagement ring.
Denise sat at the head of the conference table.
Celeste’s attorney sat beside her.
A recorder remained off because the lawyers had not agreed on a formal statement yet.
Mara looked at Celeste.
For several seconds neither woman spoke.
Celeste finally said, “You look the same.”
Mara’s expression cooled.
Celeste looked down.
“Sorry. That was stupid.”
“Yes.”
Denise shifted slightly.
Celeste placed a folder on the table.
“Victoria approached me first.”
Mara waited.
“Not about the test. About you.”
“When?”
“About fourteen months ago.”
That was three months before Owen received the fake report.
Celeste continued.
“She asked me to lunch. I thought it was because Owen and I were dating.”
“You were.”
“Yes.”
“While he was separated.”
“Yes.”
“Not divorced.”
Celeste’s mouth tightened.
“Yes.”
Her attorney started to speak.
Celeste lifted a hand.
“It’s fine.”
Mara said nothing.
Celeste opened the folder.
“She told me Owen always went back to people when he felt guilty. She said you knew how to use that.”
Mara almost laughed.
“How?”
“The children. Shared accounts. Family holidays. His father.”
“My children were supposed to stop being his children because we separated?”
“I didn’t say it made sense.”
“You believed it.”
Celeste looked at her.
“I believed what I wanted.”
That answer slowed Mara.
Celeste continued.
“I was thirty. Owen was rich, yes, but that wasn’t why I wanted him.”
Mara’s face remained still.
Celeste gave a small bitter smile.
“You don’t believe me.”
“I don’t care.”
That hurt.
Mara saw it.
She did not apologize.
Celeste folded her hands.
“He made me feel chosen. That was the thing.”
Her attorney shifted.
Celeste ignored him.
“My mother spent her whole life marrying men who eventually left. My father left before that. Then my stepfather. Then another man whose name I don’t remember because I was ten and everybody told me not to get attached.”
She looked at Mara.
“I got very good at being the woman men chose before they changed their minds.”
Mara did not respond.
Celeste’s eyes went to the folder.
“When Owen started talking about the children all the time, I panicked.”
“He should have talked about them.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
Mara sat back.
“Keep going.”
“Victoria told me you were trying to get him back.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I know that now.”
“You could have asked.”
Celeste laughed softly.
“Ask the wife of the man I was dating whether she wanted him back?”
“Former wife.”
“You weren’t divorced yet.”
Mara looked at her.
Celeste nodded.
“I know.”
That small admission felt more honest than the others.
“She knew Owen was reconsidering parts of the separation,” Celeste said. “Not the marriage necessarily. The family structure. He missed the kids. He was angry, but he missed them. Victoria hated the idea that he would go back to being dependent on you.”
“Dependent.”
“That was her word.”
Mara’s fingers tightened beneath the table.
Celeste pulled out printed emails.
“These are from Victoria.”
Denise reached for them first.
Mara read over her shoulder.
Most were ordinary.
Lunch confirmations.
Travel dates.
A charity event.
Then one:
If Owen starts confusing guilt with obligation again, remind him what instability has already cost him.
May you like
Another:
He needs certainty before he drifts backward.
