Chapter 4
Little clouds.
Little moons.
Little stars.
All moving over nothing.
“Noah?”
I knew he wasn’t there.
I still said his name.
The rocking chair faced the window.
His hospital blanket was folded over one arm with impossible neatness.
Clara folded things when she was trying not to fall apart.
I knew that about her.
I knew so many things about her.
That was one of the cruelties.
Knowing someone is not the same as taking care of them.
On the dresser was my wedding ring.
I stared at it for several seconds before touching it.
I usually left it in a porcelain dish beside our bed when I showered.
I had forgotten it there the night before.
Or perhaps I had chosen to forget it.
The distinction did not seem important anymore.
Under the ring was a folded piece of paper.
My hands shook when I opened it.
Clara’s handwriting leaned slightly to the right.
The first line stopped my breathing.
Last night, while you were with her, our son’s fever reached 39.4.
I kept reading.
I waited for you.
I called you.
I begged you to come home.
Then I understood I was waiting for a man who no longer exists.
Noah needed his father. I needed my husband. You chose not to be either one.
Don’t look for us.
You already chose who you are.
I sat down on the nursery floor.
Not gracefully.
My knees stopped working.
The paper stayed in my hand.
I read it again.
Then again.
The words never softened.
There was no long accusation.
No dramatic goodbye.
No threat.
That made it worse.
Clara was finished explaining.
My phone buzzed.
For one insane second, hope exploded through me.
I grabbed it.
Sabrina.
Last night was unforgettable.
I looked at the message.
Then at Noah’s empty crib.
Something inside me turned cold.
A knock sounded beyond the living room.
I nearly ignored it.
Then it came again.
I walked to the door and opened it.
Ben Mercer stood outside.
My assistant had worked for me for seven years.
He had seen me drunk, furious, exhausted, brilliant, reckless and impossible.
I had never seen him look at me the way he did that morning.
Not disgusted.
That would have been easier.
He looked frightened for me.
He held a tablet against his chest.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“You need to see this.”
He handed it over.
The headline was already everywhere.