Chapter 8
I gave a bitter laugh.
“So he left me to discover it at his funeral?”
Mr.
Harlan lowered his eyes.
“Your father did not expect to die that week, Eleanor.”
I stared at him.
“He prepared instructions in case something happened to him.
He had contingencies for nearly everything, but he believed he would have more time.”
My eyes filled.
For the first time since his death, I felt angry at my father.
Angry that he had known something was wrong.
Angry that he had left me to learn the truth in front of people who were already watching my humiliation.
And beneath that anger was something worse.
The knowledge that I would never be able to ask him why.
A hard knock sounded against the door.
“Eleanor!”
Caleb.
Mr.
Harlan rose.
“Do not open it.”
“Eleanor, I know you’re in there.”
I heard his palm strike the wood.
“Arthur is manipulating you.
You need to stop listening to him.”
I stared at the marriage certificate.
Suddenly, I remembered a photograph taken at a charity reception shortly after Caleb and I started dating.
Vanessa had been standing near the edge of the frame.
At the time, Caleb had introduced her as someone he had known professionally.
I had barely noticed her.
Later, when she began consulting for Whitmore Group, he told me they had recently reconnected.
I had never put those two moments together.
Now I wondered how many times she had stood somewhere nearby while Caleb pretended she meant nothing.
“Eleanor!”
I stood.
Mr.
Harlan looked concerned.
“You don’t have to speak with him.”
“I know.”
I folded the certificate and placed it back inside the packet.
“But I’m not hiding from him.”
When Mr.
Harlan opened the door, Caleb stood in the corridor with Vanessa behind him.
He immediately looked at the papers in my hand.
“What did Arthur show you?”
I studied his face.
For three years, I had searched that face for reassurance whenever something frightened me.
Now I searched it for evidence.
“What are you so worried about, Caleb?”
His eyes narrowed.
“I’m worried about my wife.”
“Are you?”
“You’re in no condition to be making decisions.”
Mr.
Harlan stepped beside me.
“Mr.
Mercer, Mrs.
Mercer has made no legal decisions today.”
Caleb ignored him.
“Eleanor, we need to go home.”
I looked toward Vanessa.
She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“Why did you bring her here?”