Chapter 16
Our first miscarriage.
The night he thought Mercer Holdings would collapse.
And now.
“I did love you,” he said.
I shook my head.
“Don’t put it in the past just because we’re divorced.”
His face crumpled slightly.
“You can love me and still have failed me.”
He closed his eyes.
“And I can love you and still leave.”
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then Julian reached into his coat.
He held out the cheap silver ring.
My first wedding ring.
“You forgot this in the box.”
I looked at it.
“No.”
He frowned.
“I left it there.”
His hand lowered.
“I thought you might want it.”
“I do.”
“Then—”
“But you keep it.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the one who needs to remember who you were.”
He stared at the ring in his palm.
Then closed his fingers around it.
I kissed his cheek.
“Goodbye, Julian.”
“Goodbye, Claire.”
I walked away before either of us could change the meaning of the moment.
Outside, reporters surged toward me.
Someone shouted, “Claire, what are you going to do now?”
This time I stopped.
Cameras flashed.
For twelve years, almost every question I had been asked publicly contained Julian’s name.
What did I think about Julian’s latest acquisition?
Was I proud of Julian?
How did I balance my career with Julian’s?
Would Julian and I have children?
How did it feel being married to one of America’s most successful businessmen?
Now somebody had finally asked about me.
“What am I going to do?”
The reporter nodded.
I smiled.
“I’m going back to work.”
Then I walked down the courthouse steps.
EPILOGUE: THE LIFE NOBODY COULD TAKE AWAY
Six months later, I was standing barefoot in my vegetable garden when Martin called.
“You’re nominated.”
I nearly dropped the basket in my hands.
“For what?”
He swore at me.
I laughed.
The series had become more successful than anyone expected.
Reviews called my performance a comeback.
I hated that word at first.
A comeback implied I had disappeared.
Eventually, I stopped caring.
People could call it whatever they wanted.
I knew what it was.
A return.
Not to the woman I had been before Julian.
That woman no longer existed.
I was returning to myself as I was now.
Older.
Less certain.
More careful about what I gave away.
Pine Hollow had changed too.
The garden was alive.
The porch had been repaired.
And, against all reasonable advice from Margaret, I had bought six chickens.