Chapter 2 - THE STORY HE WANTED ME TO BELIEVE
Daniel came upstairs at eight-thirty carrying two cups of coffee.
He knocked instead of trying the handle.
“Emily?”
I stayed at the desk.
“What?”
“Can I come in?”
“No.”
Silence.
Then his voice softened.
“Please.”
I looked at the laptop.
The folder was closed.
I had already emailed copies of everything to myself.
I opened the door.
Daniel held out the coffee.
The gesture was so normal that it felt insulting.
“You take it with one sugar.”
“I know how I take my coffee.”
He lowered the cup.
“Okay.”
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
He looked exhausted.
There were dark circles beneath his eyes, and his hair was still damp from the snow outside.
Once, seeing him like that would have made me reach for him.
Now I wondered where he had spent the night.
“Where were you?” I asked.
“At Vanessa’s.”
He said it too quickly.
My expression must have changed because he immediately added, “Her apartment.”
“I understood.”
“She had a situation.”
“What situation?”
“Her ex showed up.”
“Was her son there?”
Daniel paused.
“Yes.”
That answer sounded real enough.
I hated that I had begun measuring everything he said for signs of truth.
“And you were the only person who could help her?”
“I was nearby.”
“At eight o’clock?”
“I’d already promised I’d check on her.”
I looked at him.
“You promised another woman you would check on her while your parents were waiting for you to explain why you were holding her hand in front of your wife.”
He rubbed his forehead.
“When you say it like that—”
“How should I say it?”
“Emily, I’m trying.”
“No.”
I folded my arms.
“You’re trying to control the wording.”
He stared at me.
That landed.
Then he sighed.
“Vanessa and I reconnected a few months ago.”
There it was.
Not ran into each other.
Not bumped into each other once.
Reconnected.
“How?”
“Online at first.”
“Which means?”
“She messaged me.”
“When?”
“September.”
A month earlier than Margaret’s suspicions.
“What did she want?”
“She was having a hard time.”
“With her divorce?”
“Yes.”
“Her divorce that happened two years ago?”
He looked away.
“It’s complicated.”
“So explain it.”
Daniel set both coffees on the dresser.
“We were friends in high school.”
“Were you together?”
His hesitation told me the answer before he spoke.
“For a little while.”
Something cold slid through me.
“You dated her.”
“We were teenagers.”
“You never told me that.”
“It wasn’t important.”
“It became important when you started secretly seeing her again.”
“I wasn’t secretly seeing her.”
I almost admired how quickly he said it.
“You didn’t tell me.”
“That doesn’t make it secret.”
“What would?”
His jaw tightened.
“Emily.”
“No, I want to understand your definition.”
I stepped closer.
“If you meet an ex-girlfriend and deliberately don’t tell your wife, what is that?”
“She needed someone who knew her before everything got messy.”
“And why did that someone have to be you?”
Daniel’s expression changed.
For the first time, I saw irritation rather than guilt.
“Because I cared about what happened to her.”
There it was.
Not love.
Not yet.
But something.
I held his gaze.
“How much?”
“What?”
“How much do you care about her?”
Daniel looked toward the window.
“That’s not a fair question.”
I laughed once.
“Neither was seeing my husband holding his ex-girlfriend’s hand three days before Christmas.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“We got too close.”
My chest tightened.
“How close?”
“Emotionally.”
I waited.
He did not continue.
“Did you sleep with her?”
“No.”
It came immediately.
Too immediately.
“Did you kiss her?”
Silence.
I felt the answer before he gave it.
“Once.”
The room seemed to contract.
“When?”
“Emily—”
“When?”
“October.”
Margaret’s suspicion had begun in October.
I looked toward the closed laptop.
The hotel charge was from November.
“Where?”
“At her place.”
“Did she kiss you or did you kiss her?”
He stared at the floor.
“I don’t know.”
“That means you know.”
“It just happened.”
I hated that phrase more than I expected.
A storm just happened.
A car accident just happened.
A kiss required someone to lean forward.
“Did you tell her it was a mistake?”
“Yes.”
“Then why were you holding her hand yesterday?”
His face changed.
That was the contradiction he had not prepared for.
“I told you, she’s going through something.”
“And you comfort women by holding their hands after kissing them?”
Daniel’s voice sharpened.
“You’re making this uglier than it was.”
I actually smiled.
It surprised both of us.
“Am I?”
He took a breath.
“I came here to be honest with you.”
“You came here after I caught you.”
His mouth closed.
“Those are different things.”
I wanted to ask about the hotel.
I almost did.
Then I remembered Margaret.
Watch.
So I swallowed the question.
Daniel mistook my silence for uncertainty.
His shoulders relaxed slightly.
“I know how this looks.”
I looked at him.
May you like
“That sentence usually means it looks exactly the way it is.”
He ignored that.
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