“Why did you wait?”
I thought about it.
“Because every time I tried, he was somewhere else.”
That was the simplest truth.
Late meeting.
Conference call.
Client dinner.
Gym.
Traffic.
Exhaustion.
There was always some reason the conversation had to happen tomorrow.
My mother reached for my hand.
“What do you want now?”
The question frightened me more than everything downstairs.
Because until that moment, I had been reacting.
I had gathered financial records.
Called an attorney.
Printed divorce papers.
Invited our families because I was afraid Brandon would convince me I had misunderstood what I heard.
I had planned every detail except what came after.
“I want him out of the house tonight.”
“Okay.”
“I want the financial accounts protected.”
“Elena can help.”
“I want Brooklyn to have her father.”
My mother studied me carefully.
“Even after this?”
“If he can be a good father.”
“That’s a big if.”
“I know.”
She squeezed my hand.
“I’m proud of you.”
My eyes burned.
“Don’t say that yet.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Nobody does when their life changes in one week.”
I laughed through my tears.
Brooklyn stirred.
My mother smiled at her.
“She needs a bottle.”
“I know.”
“You want me to make it?”
“No.”
I stood.
“I need to go back downstairs.”
When I returned, the dining room had changed.
The plates had been moved to the kitchen.
My father stood near the fireplace.
Richard was on the sofa with both elbows on his knees.
Diane sat beside him.
Brandon stood alone by the window.
Elena had placed the documents into neat stacks on the coffee table.
Everyone looked at me.
I hated that.
“I don’t want this to turn into a trial,” I said.
Nobody spoke.
I sat in the armchair with Brooklyn.
“Brandon, I want you to stay somewhere else tonight.”
He looked at me.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“This is my home too.”
“I know.”
His face tightened.
“Then you can’t just throw me out.”
Elena began to speak, but I lifted a hand.
“I’m asking you.”
Brandon looked at Brooklyn.
Then at me.
“Can I hold her?”
My first instinct was no.
It was immediate and fierce.
Then I looked at his face.
Whatever kind of husband he had become, he loved our daughter.
At least I believed he did.
And I didn’t want my anger to decide everything for me.
I stood.
“Sit down.”
He did.
I placed Brooklyn carefully into his arms.
His entire face changed.
That nearly broke me.
He looked down at her.
“Hey, Brookie.”
She blinked at him.
“You’re awake late.”
Nobody moved.
Brandon touched one finger to her tiny palm.
She grabbed it.
His eyes filled.
“I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t tell whether he was speaking to her or me.
Perhaps both.
After a moment, he looked up.
“I never wanted to hurt her.”
“Then why did you take her money?”
His eyes closed.
“I don’t have a good answer.”
“That may be the first honest thing you’ve said tonight.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
He held Brooklyn for another minute.
Then he handed her back.
“I’ll go to a hotel.”
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
He stood.
For a second, it seemed he might say something else.
Instead, he walked upstairs to pack.
Richard followed him with his eyes.
When Brandon disappeared, Diane leaned toward me.
“Claire.”
I looked at her.
“I need you to know something.”
“About the trust?”
“No.”
She glanced toward the staircase.
“About Madison.”
Every nerve in my body seemed to wake at once.
“What?”
Diane looked at Richard.
He shook his head slightly.
“What?” I repeated.
She pressed her lips together.
“When I overheard Brandon in the garage, I heard more than what I wrote in that letter.”
“Why didn’t you include it?”
“Because I wasn’t sure what it meant.”
Elena took a seat on the edge of the sofa.
“What exactly did you hear?”
Diane folded her hands.
“Brandon said, ‘I’m not doing a test. I already know.’”
A strange silence followed.
I stared at her.
“A test?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of test?”
“I assumed a paternity test.”
My heart seemed to slow.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Maybe it does,” Richard said.
Everyone looked at him.
He rubbed his forehead.
“When Brandon asked me about another grandchild, he kept saying hypothetical things.”
“What things?”
“He asked what would happen if a child was born while the parents were married to other people.”
I stared at him.
“Madison is married?”
Richard hesitated.
“I don’t know.”
My attorney looked at me.
“Claire, did you ever look her up?”
I shook my head.
“I had six days. I found the transfers. I found the apartment lease. I found enough.”
Elena nodded.
“You did the right thing by not digging into everything yourself.”
My father muttered, “Apparently there’s plenty left to dig into.”
The front door opened upstairs.
A few minutes later, Brandon came down carrying a duffel bag.
He stopped when he saw our faces.
“What now?”
I stood.
“Is Madison married?”
He went completely still.
Nobody needed his answer.
I walked closer.
“Is she?”
He exhaled.
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It seems like it matters.”
“It doesn’t concern you.”
I almost laughed.
“She’s pregnant. You transferred eighty thousand dollars to her. You told her you were leaving me to marry her. I think I’m allowed to be curious.”
He looked toward Elena.
“This is exactly why I didn’t want all these people here.”
“No,” I said. “You didn’t want them here because it’s harder to change the story with witnesses.”
His expression shifted.
For a second, I thought he might argue.
Instead, he looked at Brooklyn.
“Madison has been separated for almost a year.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“Her husband’s name is Ethan Cole.”
“Does he know about you?”
Brandon said nothing.
“Does he know she’s pregnant?”
Again, nothing.
Diane stood.
“Brandon.”
He snapped.
“I don’t know what he knows!”
Brooklyn startled.
Immediately, Brandon lowered his voice.
“Sorry.”
I bounced her gently against my shoulder.
Richard stared at his son.
“You told Madison you wouldn’t take a paternity test.”
Brandon’s face drained of color.
Diane covered her mouth.
“So I heard correctly.”
Brandon looked from his mother to me.
“This isn’t what you think.”
I felt suddenly exhausted.
“I’m beginning to hate that sentence.”
He set his duffel bag down.
“Madison told me the baby is mine.”
“But you aren’t sure.”
“I am sure.”
“You just said—”
“I said she told me.”
It took a second for the difference to settle.
I stared at him.
“You don’t know.”
He looked away.
“No.”
The anger I had expected didn’t come.
Instead, I felt something almost like sadness.
Not for Madison.
Not even for Brandon.
For the scale of the confusion three adults had created while two unborn or newborn children sat at the center of it without knowing anything.
“Why wouldn’t you take a test?”
Brandon’s voice was barely audible.
“Because she said if I asked for one, it meant I didn’t trust her.”
My father made a disbelieving sound.
I raised my hand.
“Dad.”
He stopped.
Brandon rubbed the back of his neck.
“She said Ethan couldn’t be the father.”
“Why?”
“They haven’t been together.”
“You believe that?”
“Yes.”
I studied him.
“You believed me when I said I loved you too.”
His face tightened.
I hadn’t meant it cruelly.
But the truth remained between us.
He picked up his duffel bag again.
“I’m leaving.”
“Brandon.”
He stopped.
“When is the baby due?”
“November seventeenth.”
Something shifted in Elena’s expression.
It was tiny.
Almost nothing.
But I saw it.
“What?” I asked.
She glanced at me.
“Probably nothing.”
“What?”
She hesitated.
“Claire, when did you say the first transfer to Madison happened?”
I looked toward the table.
“February.”
Elena checked her notes.
“February third.”
