Chapter 6 - The Door He Thought Would Open
Grant came to my parents’ house on Thursday evening.
He arrived during dinner, carrying flowers large enough to require their own apology.
Our housekeeper announced him from the doorway.
My father set down his fork.
“No.”
I touched his wrist.
“I’ll handle it.”
I met Grant on the covered terrace. My mother remained within sight through the glass.
The flowers stayed in his hands.
“You look tired,” he said.
“I’ve had an unusual week.”
He swallowed.
“I deserve that.”
“What do you want?”
“To explain.”
“You’ve had several opportunities.”
“I was under pressure. Sloane’s father had leverage over the company. Things got complicated.”
“You invited her to our wedding.”
“I know.”
“You held her hand.”
His eyes closed.
“Nora, please.”
I waited.
“I made a terrible mistake.”
“Which one?”
He looked confused.
“Choosing her? Humiliating me? Allowing your mother to threaten me? Submitting a document with my signature?”
His expression hardened at the last question.
“I didn’t forge anything.”
“Then cooperate with the investigation.”
“I intend to.”
“Good.”
He put the flowers on a chair.
“I miss you.”
For one dangerous second, I wanted those words to mean what they once would have meant.
Then he continued.
“We were good together before all this money got involved.”
There it was.
Money had entered our relationship only when he discovered I had more of it.
Before that, his wealth had been a character reference.
Mine was apparently an offense.
“I loved you,” I said.
His face softened.
“I know.”
“No. You knew I would accommodate you. You knew I would explain away things that hurt. I’m not sure you understood the rest.”
He stepped closer.
“We can start over.”
“Would you have come here if I lived above a dry cleaner?”
He said nothing.
The silence answered cleanly.
I moved toward the door.
“Nora.”
I turned.
“If you let them remove me, you’ll destroy everything my father built.”
I thought of the employees whose unpaid invoices he had never mentioned.
“Your board will make its decision based on evidence.”
“You could influence them.”
“Yes,” I said. “That’s why I’m being careful.”
For the first time, he looked angry enough to resemble the man who had stood between Sloane and me.
“You enjoyed this, didn’t you? Watching me find out.”
“No.”
I let him see the exhaustion.
“I wanted to marry you. You keep forgetting that.”
My mother opened the terrace door.
“Grant, it’s time.”
He looked past me, perhaps expecting my family to intervene on his behalf.
They had spent three years respecting my choice.
They could respect this one too.
After he left, I found a small velvet box beside the flowers.
Inside was a necklace.
A diamond pendant I had admired six months earlier.
Underneath lay a note.
Let me give you the life you deserve.
I sent both to Judith for documented return.
Then I went upstairs and deleted the honeymoon itinerary from my calendar.
Friday brought the first official findings.
The disputed guaranty had been assembled from an older signature image. Records tied its submission to Grant’s office, though investigators were still examining who had created it.
Several Pierce invoices lacked supporting deliveries.
The board suspended Grant pending a full investigation.
That afternoon, an anonymous account published the hotel photographs.
By sunset, my name was trending beside Daniel’s.
I called him through counsel.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“You didn’t publish them.”
“Your reputation—”
“Will survive a verifiable timeline.”
He sounded almost irritatingly steady.
“Are you always this calm?”
“No. I’m currently walking in circles.”
I laughed.
It startled both of us.
Then he said, “We’ll answer with facts tomorrow. Tonight, call someone who loves you.”
May you like
I looked downstairs, where my parents and Emily were arguing over takeout.
For once, I followed good advice immediately.
