Chapter 2 - Emily did.
“I hope Nathan explained that I’m ill.”
“He said you have cancer.”
“He tends to use as few words as possible when the truth frightens him.”
Emily glanced through the glass doors.
Nathan was standing beside Noah near the reflecting pool, listening to the boy explain something with great seriousness.
“Why does he want this marriage?”
Celeste did not seem offended by the question.
“Because he believes duty is the same as love.”
“That sounds complicated.”
“It has made his life very lonely.”
Emily looked back at her.
“You asked him to marry?”
“I asked him to stop living as though everyone who cared about him was a weakness.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.
But Nathan turns every request into an obligation.
If I say I want to see him settled, he hears an order.”
“Do you want him married for your sake?”
Celeste was quiet for a moment.
“I want him to have someone who sees the man beneath the reputation.
Someone who will challenge him without trying to control him.”
Emily let out a short, humorless laugh.
“You don’t know me.”
“Not yet.”
“You know I’m desperate.”
“I know you are trying to protect your children.
That is not the same as being weak.”
The words settled uncomfortably in Emily’s chest.
Celeste continued, “You should also understand that my son’s life is not simple.
His business is complicated, his family is divided, and people have expectations of him.
If you marry him, you will be asked to stand beside him publicly.”
“I won’t lie for him.”
“I would not ask you to.”
“I won’t pretend to love him.”
“Neither should he ask that.”
“And if I change my mind?”
“You leave.”
“Even if the contract says otherwise?”
Celeste’s expression sharpened.
“Then the contract is badly written.”
Emily almost smiled.
For the first time since entering the house, she felt the ground beneath her feet.
Nathan entered carrying two glasses of water.
He gave one to his mother and placed the other in front of Emily.
Celeste leaned back.
“You’re early.”
“I’ve been here all morning.”
“You know what I mean.”
Nathan ignored the comment.
“The attorney is available this afternoon if Emily wants to review the agreement.”
“I do,” Emily said.
His gaze met hers.
“Are you considering it?”
“I’m considering information.”
“That’s fair.”
Celeste studied them both.
“Good.
A marriage built on assumptions is a poor foundation.”
Noah appeared in the doorway then, his face lit with excitement.
“Mom, there’s a library bigger than our whole apartment.”
Lily stood beside him, holding a stuffed rabbit someone had found for her.
Emily smiled.
“Did you ask permission before taking that?”
Sofia appeared behind them.
“It’s a welcome gift.”
Lily hugged the rabbit to her chest.
“His name is Button.”
“An excellent name,” Celeste said.
The morning passed more gently than Emily expected.
The children explored the garden with Sofia.
Noah inspected both pools and declared the reflecting pool “too shallow for proper swimming,” while Lily sat beneath a tree and arranged flowers she had been told not to pick.
Nathan showed Emily the guest room prepared for them.
It was connected to another room for the children, with a sitting area between them.
“You arranged this before I answered,” she said.
“I arranged it in case you came.”
“That feels like an assumption.”
“It was preparation, not certainty.”
She looked at the untouched bed.
“You’ve done this before.”
“Not this.”
“Then why does everything feel practiced?”
Nathan leaned against the doorframe.
“Because I’ve spent my life preparing for things I didn’t want to happen.”
She heard the fatigue beneath his words.
“Your family is really that difficult?”
“My family is grieving.
People become difficult when they’re afraid.”
“And your enemies?”
“Some are afraid too.”
“That doesn’t make them harmless.”
“No.”
His directness left little room for comforting illusions.
After lunch, Nathan’s attorney arrived.
His name was Daniel Reyes, a patient-looking man with round glasses and a leather folder.
He explained the agreement in plain language, stopping whenever Emily asked a question.
The marriage would last one year unless both parties agreed to end it earlier.
Emily would retain ownership of all personal funds.
The children’s education and medical care would be covered, but only with her approval.
Separate bedrooms were guaranteed.
She could work outside the household if she wished.
There was no requirement of intimacy, no restriction on leaving the property, and no penalty for divorce.
Emily read every page twice.
“What happens if Mr.
Brooks dies?” she asked.
Daniel glanced at Nathan.
Nathan answered.
“You and the children would be protected financially.”
“Protected how?”
“A trust would be established in your name before the marriage.”
“Before?”
“Yes.”
She looked at Daniel.
“Can that be written clearly?”
“It already is.”
“Then I want an independent attorney.”
Nathan nodded immediately.
“I’ll arrange one.”
The decision became real then.
Not because the contract was generous, but because Nathan did not resist her caution.
By evening, Emily was standing on the back patio while the desert sky turned lavender.
Noah and Lily were inside with Sofia, playing a board game in the family room.
Nathan joined her with two cups of tea.
“You don’t drink coffee?” he asked.
“Not after noon.”
“You’re the first person I’ve met who turns down coffee.”
“I’ve had enough bad coffee to last a lifetime.”
He handed her the tea.
“You can stay tonight.
Your attorney can come tomorrow.”
“I haven’t agreed.”
“I know.”
She looked toward the illuminated windows of the house.
“Your mother said you’re lonely.”
“She exaggerates.”
“She said you confuse duty with love.”
“She doesn’t exaggerate.”
The admission softened something in her.
“What happened to your father?”
Nathan stared toward the darkening mountains.
“He died when I was twenty-three.
My mother became ill two years later.
I took over the businesses before I understood what I was doing.”
“And never stopped.”
“No.”
“Do you want to?”
His hand tightened around the cup.
“I don’t know what I would be if I stopped.”
Emily understood that answer better than she wished to.
A sudden sound came from the house—not a crash, only the sharp ring of a telephone.
Sofia answered it.
A moment later, she appeared at the patio doors.
“Mr.
Brooks,” she said, “your mother asked for you.”
Nathan set his cup down.
“Is she all right?”
“She says she is.
But she asked me to tell you that she wants to speak with Emily alone.”
His expression changed.
Not fear exactly.
Recognition.
Emily noticed.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re a terrible liar too.”
For the first time, Nathan looked genuinely unsettled.
Celeste was waiting in the sunroom.
The nurse stood beside her now, and on the table lay a small wooden box Emily had not seen earlier.
Nathan stopped at the threshold.
“Mother, what is this?”
Celeste looked at him, then at Emily.
“I told you years ago that if she ever came here, you were to bring her to me.”
Emily’s breath caught.
Nathan turned sharply toward his mother.
“You never said—”
“You were a child when I said it.”
“I was twenty-eight.”
“Emotionally, you were still a child.”
Celeste opened the wooden box.
Inside lay an old photograph, its edges faded with age.
Emily saw a younger Celeste standing beside another woman—dark-haired, bright-eyed, and familiar in a way that made Emily’s heart begin to pound.
She knew that face.
She had seen it in the only photograph she had left from her childhood.
“My mother,” Emily whispered.
May you like
Celeste nodded.
“Claire Parker was not a stranger to this family.”
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