Chapter 3 - The Woman My Husband Chose
Eleanor Mercer looked at Vanessa and said, “Don’t run. It makes you look guilty.”
Daniel stared at his mother.
“What are you doing here?”
She ignored him.
Her gaze went to Lily.
Then the bruise.
Something changed in her face.
Eleanor and I had never been close.
She had always considered me too ordinary for Daniel.
Ironically, that had been one reason I never told her who my father was.
Now she walked directly toward her granddaughter.
“Lily?”
Lily hid against me.
Eleanor stopped.
She understood.
That hurt her.
Good.
Some lessons should hurt.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Daniel stepped forward.
“Mom, what is happening?”
Eleanor turned.
“I came because Vanessa called me.”
Vanessa shook her head violently.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“An hour ago.”
Daniel looked between them.
“What did she say?”
Eleanor’s eyes stayed on Vanessa.
“She asked me to convince you to leave Claire tonight.”
Silence.
Vanessa’s face hardened.
“You hated her.”
“I disliked her.”
Eleanor glanced at me.
“I was wrong about many things. But I never wanted my son to abandon his child.”
Daniel’s shoulders dropped.
“Vanessa?”
Vanessa suddenly laughed.
It was a brittle sound.
“You’re all acting as if Claire is some innocent victim.”
I said nothing.
Vanessa pointed at me.
“She lied for six years.”
“About her father,” Charles said. “Not about hurting a child.”
Vanessa looked cornered.
That made her dangerous.
“She knew Daniel was unhappy.”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“Stop.”
“She knew our marriage was over.”
“Our marriage?” I asked.
Vanessa blinked.
I smiled without warmth.
“Interesting choice of words.”
Daniel looked sick.
Charles ordered security to keep Vanessa inside until police could review the video and Lily’s injury.
I wanted to leave.
Lily needed quiet.
She needed pajamas and her stuffed rabbit and the certainty that tomorrow morning would still exist.
Charles offered us a private suite upstairs.
I hesitated.
Then Lily whispered, “Can Grandpa come?”
Charles almost broke.
I nodded.
Upstairs, away from the ballroom, I changed Lily into a soft robe provided by a housekeeper.
Charles sat outside the bedroom door.
He didn’t enter without permission.
That mattered.
When Lily finally slept, I stepped into the hallway.
Charles stood.
“I owe you an explanation.”
“You owe me several.”
He nodded.
We went to his study.
For the first time in six years, I sat across from my father.
The last time, we had been screaming.
My mother had died eleven months earlier.
Charles had buried himself in work.
I had accused him of forgetting her.
He had accused me of throwing away my future.
Then I met Daniel.
Charles distrusted him immediately.
I assumed it was arrogance.
Maybe some of it was.
Then came the letter.
It stated that Charles had removed me from all family trusts unless I ended my relationship with Daniel and returned home.
I chose Daniel.
Or so I thought.
“I never wrote that letter,” Charles said.
I showed him the photograph.
He stared at the forged signature.
“I would never threaten you with your mother’s inheritance.”
“I know that now.”
His eyes filled.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because I was twenty-five and angry.”
“Why didn’t I call you?”
Neither of us had an answer that made six years forgivable.
Pride was a cheap thing.
It had cost us everything.
Charles leaned back.
“Vanessa was working for the legal department then.”
“Yes.”
“But she was a junior assistant. She couldn’t have prepared this alone.”
“Someone paid her.”
He nodded.
The study door opened.
Daniel entered.
Charles stood.
“I didn’t invite you.”
Daniel looked at me.
“I need to talk to my wife.”
“Your wife doesn’t need to talk to you.”
I raised my hand.
“Dad.”
The word still felt strange.
“I’ll handle it.”
Charles left reluctantly.
Daniel waited until the door shut.
Then he started crying.
I had seen Daniel cry twice.
At Lily’s birth.
And when his father died.
“Claire, I screwed up.”
“Yes.”
“I never wanted Lily hurt.”
“You called her a liar.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t ask.”
He covered his face.
“I was angry.”
“At whom?”
He lowered his hands.
“At you.”
There it was.
“Why?”
“Because you stopped needing me.”
I almost couldn’t believe it.
“That is your explanation?”
“No.”
He paced.
“Vanessa made me feel—”
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
“Do not tell me your affair happened because another woman made you feel special.”
He looked ashamed.
Good.
“She said you were hiding something,” he whispered.
My pulse changed.
“What?”
Daniel looked at the door.
“Vanessa knew you were connected to Whitmore.”
I stood.
“How?”
“She never told me exactly.”
“How long has she known?”
Daniel hesitated.
That hesitation answered me.
“Daniel.”
“Before we met.”
The room went still.
“What do you mean?”
He swallowed.
“Vanessa knew who you were before I ever introduced you to her.”
I stared at him.
A horrible possibility formed.
“You told me you met Vanessa last year.”
He looked away.
“Daniel.”
His phone buzzed.
He checked it.
His face went white.
“What?”
He handed it to me.
The message contained an old photograph.
Daniel.
Vanessa.
Six years younger.
Standing together outside Whitmore Legal.
May you like
On the back of the photograph, someone had written a date.
Three weeks before Daniel and I first met.
