Chapter 8
Daniel looked toward the bar.
I watched him connect the pieces.
Michael Lawson.
My childhood friend.
The boy who lived three houses down from my grandparents.
The one who taught me how to steer a little fishing boat.
The one who carried me home after I sprained my ankle falling off a bicycle at thirteen.
The man Daniel had heard about occasionally over the years but never bothered to meet.
Daniel exhaled.
“So you're not dating him.”
I didn't answer.
He looked relieved.
That relief made me angrier than his jealousy had.
“You see?” I said quietly.
“What?”
“You're relieved.”
“Of course I am.”
“Why?”
He hesitated.
“Because I don't want to see you get hurt.”
“No, Daniel. You're relieved because you think I'm still waiting.”
His expression shifted.
“That's not fair.”
“Neither was telling our children our marriage had been dead for years while I was still trying to save it.”
He looked down.
“And neither was having an affair for nine months while letting me believe we were going through a rough patch.”
He remained silent.
I leaned forward.
“Do you know what I did the week before I found out about Rachel?”
He shook his head.
“I booked a weekend in Chicago.”
His eyes lifted.
“I remember.”
“No, you don't. Because you never knew about it.”
I smiled sadly.
“I booked the hotel. I made dinner reservations. I bought tickets to a jazz show because you used to love live music.”
“Claire—”
“I was going to surprise you. I thought maybe if we had a weekend away from everything, we could find our way back to each other.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“That was around the time—”
“Yes,” I said. “Around the time you told me you had to attend a business conference.”
He went completely still.
“The conference was in Chicago,” I continued. “I almost told you about the trip, but I thought it would be better to reschedule.”
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
I had never told him that story.
Not during the confrontation after discovering the affair.
Not during the weeks when he insisted our marriage had already been failing.
Not even when he moved his belongings out of the house.
Because there had seemed little point in explaining how close I'd come to trying one more time.
“I didn't know,” he said.
“I know.”
There was a long silence.
Then Daniel reached across the table.