Chapter 10 - THE WEEKEND RACHEL CAME WITH THEM
Evelyn’s “small” cabin was larger than Daniel’s house.
Sophie stepped out of the truck and stared.
“This is rich-people lying.”
Evelyn laughed.
“I said small.”
“You have a separate building for boats.”
“Boathouse.”
“That is another house.”
Daniel carried bags.
“Do not encourage her.”
The lake was quiet.
Pine trees.
Cold October air.
No cameras.
No board members.
No private chef.
They cooked.
Poorly.
Evelyn could manage corporate acquisitions but struggled with grilled cheese.
Sophie documented this.
“Delete that photograph.”
“Never.”
Daniel stood at the stove.
“She’s blackmailing you now.”
Evelyn looked horrified.
“With what?”
“Apparently billionaires can burn bread.”
“I was distracted.”
“By cheese?”
“Your father.”
Sophie immediately made a gagging sound.
“Boundaries.”
That night, they played cards.
Evelyn cheated accidentally.
Sophie accused her intentionally.
Daniel laughed until his ribs hurt.
At ten, Sophie went upstairs.
Daniel and Evelyn remained beside the fire.
For a long time, they were quiet.
Then Evelyn asked:
“Did you come here with Rachel?”
“No.”
“Anywhere like it?”
“Once.”
Daniel smiled.
“Michigan.”
“What happened?”
“It rained the entire weekend.”
“Romantic.”
“Our tent leaked.”
“You camped?”
“Yes.”
Evelyn looked genuinely disturbed.
“On the ground?”
“Where else?”
“I don’t understand.”
Daniel laughed.
He told her about Rachel.
The camping trip.
Sophie at age three refusing to sleep.
Rachel singing badly until two in the morning.
Evelyn listened.
Not threatened.
Then she asked:
“Do you ever feel guilty?”
Daniel looked at her.
“For us?”
“Yes.”
He thought.
“Sometimes.”
Her face tightened.
He continued.
“Not because I think loving you betrays Rachel.”
Evelyn waited.
“Because happiness makes me realize how long I accepted being half alive.”
His throat tightened.
“I told myself it was enough.”
“Raising Sophie.”
“Yes.”
“Work.”
“Yes.”
“Memories.”
“Yes.”
Daniel looked into the fire.
“And it was enough to survive.”
He turned toward her.
“But surviving became a habit.”
Evelyn’s eyes filled.
“I know something about that.”
He smiled faintly.
“I thought you might.”
She touched his hand.
Then asked:
“What would Rachel think of me?”
Dangerous question.
Daniel considered.
“She would distrust you.”
Evelyn blinked.
He smiled.
“For approximately twenty minutes.”
“Comforting.”
“She distrusted anyone polished.”
“I am extremely polished.”
“Yes.”
“What then?”
Daniel thought of his wife.
Rachel in the kitchen.
Rachel laughing before the joke finished.
Rachel crying during infertility? No—wait Daniel and Rachel had Sophie. Not needed.
Rachel watching Daniel work.
“She would ask you questions until you forgot she was interviewing you.”
Evelyn smiled.
“And after?”
“She’d probably tell me not to screw it up.”
Evelyn’s expression changed.
“Would she?”
“Yes.”
Daniel’s voice softened.
“Rachel loved me.”
He looked at Evelyn.
“She would not want the last thing she gave me to be loneliness.”
Evelyn started crying.
Quietly.
Daniel moved closer.
She rested her forehead against his.
“I love you.”
Everything stopped.
Evelyn froze.
She had not planned to say it.
Daniel saw panic enter her face.
Interesting.
The woman who had testified before Congress looked terrified of three words.
He smiled softly.
“I know.”
Her eyes widened.
“That is a terrible response.”
He laughed.
“I’m sorry.”
“You should be.”
Daniel touched her cheek.
“I love you too.”
The panic disappeared.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
Then kissed him.
Later, upstairs, they stood outside separate bedrooms.
Daniel looked at her.
Evelyn smiled.
“Safe, respected, wanted, cared for?”
He laughed.
“You’re never letting that go.”
“Never.”
She touched his shirt.
“Daniel.”
“Yes?”
“I want you.”
His breath changed.
“But I don’t want tomorrow to feel like I bought a weekend and got an outcome.”
The honesty of that almost broke him.
He took her hand.
“Then tomorrow won’t.”
That night, Daniel slept beside another woman for the first time since Rachel died.
There was no performance.
No rush.
No attempt to erase eleven years.
At one point, Daniel stopped because grief hit him unexpectedly.
Evelyn did not ask what was wrong.
She simply held him.
That was exactly the answer he had given at the gala.
Safety.
Respect.
Vulnerability without shame.
In the morning, Daniel woke first.
For one disorienting second, Evelyn’s dark hair on the pillow looked like a mistake his brain could not place.
Then she opened her eyes.
“Why are you staring?”
“I’m deciding whether you snore.”
Her expression became offended.
“I do not.”
“You do.”
“Impossible.”
“Six billion dollars and still snoring.”
She hit him with a pillow.
Daniel laughed.
From the hallway, Sophie shouted:
“I AM AWAKE AND REGRET EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS CABIN.”
Daniel covered his face.
Evelyn laughed so hard she disappeared beneath the blanket.
Breakfast was awkward for approximately four minutes.
Then Sophie asked for pancakes.
Life moved.
On the drive back to Chicago, Sophie sat in the rear seat wearing headphones.
Or pretending.
Evelyn sat beside Daniel in the truck because she had dismissed her driver for the weekend.
“You hate my truck.”
“It has no lumbar support.”
“You are old.”
“You are fifty-two.”
“Exactly.”
She smiled.
Then Daniel noticed Sophie in the mirror.
Her eyes were closed.
Head against the window.
For half a second, she looked five again.
Daniel’s chest tightened.
Evelyn noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That face is not nothing.”
He smiled.
“My daughter grew up.”
Evelyn looked back.
“She’s still growing.”
“Yes.”
“What happens when she leaves?”
Daniel had avoided that question for years.
College.
Eighteen months away.
Then his house would become quiet too.
He looked at Evelyn.
“I don’t know.”
She squeezed his hand.
For the first time, he was not afraid of not knowing.
Two weeks later, Sophie received an acceptance letter from an early-college summer program in New York.
She screamed.
Daniel cried.
Evelyn bought champagne.
Then remembered Sophie was sixteen and bought sparkling cider.
Normal.
Beautiful.
Then another letter arrived.
Not for Sophie.
For Evelyn.
Julian Cross, awaiting trial, had requested a private meeting.
His attorney claimed he possessed information about a second Mercer executive involved in the campaign against Daniel.
Evelyn almost threw the letter away.
Daniel stopped her.
“You should hear him.”
“Why?”
“Because truth doesn’t become clean just because the person holding it is dirty.”
May you like
She hated that.
Which usually meant he was right.
