Chapter 11 - After Everything Was Settled
Michael was home when I returned.
I put my purse down slowly.
“Friday.”
He froze.
I watched the truth reach his face before he spoke.
“Natalie told you.”
“You were waiting until Friday.”
“Claire—”
“Say it.”
He lowered his head.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“The agreement establishes visitation.”
“I understand what an agreement is.”
“I’m asking why my husband wanted his wife uninformed until the decision was irreversible.”
Michael looked desperate.
“Because I knew you’d be angry.”
“Of course I’d be angry.”
“I was afraid you’d tell me I couldn’t see him.”
I stared at him.
“Have I ever told you not to be a father?”
“No.”
“Have I ever kept you from Emma?”
“No.”
“Have I ever punished a child because I was angry with an adult?”
“No.”
“Then why did you decide I would do that to Lucas?”
Michael said nothing.
I understood.
It was easier for him to imagine me unreasonable than risk an honest conversation.
“You didn’t trust me.”
“I trusted you.”
“No.”
“You trusted me to eventually accept whatever you decided.”
“That is not the same thing.”
He wiped his eyes.
“I didn’t know how to fix it.”
“You keep talking about fixing.”
“You cannot fix ten years before you acknowledge six months.”
Michael sat.
I stayed standing.
“You attend the hearing Friday.”
“You acknowledge Lucas.”
“You do everything required to be his father.”
His eyes lifted.
“You’re okay with that?”
I almost laughed.
“This is exactly your problem.”
“You think my anger at you means I would punish him.”
“I won’t.”
His shoulders sagged.
“But you and I are not okay.”
“I know.”
“No.”
“I don’t think you do.”
I removed my wedding ring.
Michael stared at it.
I placed it on the kitchen counter.
“I need space.”
His face drained.
“Are you asking for a divorce?”
“I’m asking you to leave the house.”
“Claire.”
“For now.”
He stood.
“I love you.”
“I believe you.”
That seemed to hurt him more than if I had called him a liar.
Because love was not the question.
Trust was.
Michael packed a bag.
Emma cried when she saw it.
He knelt beside her and promised he was not leaving her.
I stood in the hallway and let him handle the promise himself.
After he left, Emma crawled into my bed.
We watched an old comedy without laughing.
At ten-thirty, Rachel texted.
I almost ignored it.
Then I saw the message.
I found something in our old family storage unit.
A box labeled THOMAS - PRIVATE.
There’s a sealed envelope inside.
Your name is written on it.
May you like
Not Michael’s.
Yours.
