I spent that night at Elaine’s kitchen table, still wearing the earrings I had bought for the wedding.
She set a bowl of soup beside me. A skin formed across it.
At eleven, Daniel sent a message.
I have things you need to see. I won’t come unless you say I can.
I read it three times before answering.
Ruth’s office. Monday. Nine.
Then I took off the earrings.
One clasp caught in my hair. Elaine moved behind me and freed it with the same careful fingers she had used when we were girls.
“I keep thinking about the chair,” I said.
“I know.”
“No. I keep thinking that if she’d put me at a decent table, I would have handed them the envelope.”
Elaine rested her palm against the back of my head.
Neither of us found anything comforting to say.
On Monday, Daniel arrived at Ruth’s office carrying a blue folder. He wore the same gray sweater he had owned since college. A faint white band marked the skin where his wedding ring had been.
He sat across from me, leaving the chair beside mine empty.
Ruth had already explained that the gift had not been completed. The packet I had taken to the wedding was mine to present, but her office still held the documents she had been instructed to release after my confirmation.
The house remained mine.
Relief came first, sharp enough to hurt.
Then Daniel opened the folder.
“I need you to read the messages before I explain.”
He had printed the conversation with Vanessa. Not selected pages. The whole exchange, including the parts that made him look worst.
There was my name between plans for flowers and honeymoon flights.
She’ll be upset, but she won’t cut me off.
I recognized his number above the words.
Farther down, Vanessa had asked whether I would delay the gift if I knew they intended to sell.
Definitely. Don’t bring it up until afterward.
I placed the page flat on the desk.
Daniel watched my hand instead of my face.
“I was afraid to tell you what we wanted.”
“You weren’t afraid of telling me. You were afraid I might say no.”
