Chapter 9 - THE LAST THING LAUREN LEFT BEHIND
Six months later, investigators returned Lauren’s personal effects.
Among them was a sealed letter.
My name.
Her handwriting.
I couldn’t open it.
For three days it sat on my desk.
Finally Annie found me staring at it.
“Open it.”
“I’m afraid.”
“Of Lauren?”
“Of what she might say.”
Annie sat beside me.
“Want me to leave?”
“No.”
I opened it.
Daniel,
If you’re reading this because I was too scared to tell you everything face-to-face, then I’m already angry with myself.
I smiled through tears.
That sounded exactly like Lauren.
She wrote about the investigation.
About my family.
Then the letter changed.
I’m worried about you too.
You’re disappearing into work.
The boys notice.
I notice.
You think providing for us is the same as being with us.
It isn’t.
My chest tightened.
Then:
If something happens to me, don’t turn our sons into another responsibility you outsource.
They need their father.
Not your money.
You.
I covered my face.
Annie took my hand.
The final paragraph destroyed me.
And Daniel, if I die before you, please don’t build a shrine around me and call it love.
Live.
Let the boys laugh.
Let another woman make you happy someday if you’re lucky enough to find one.
I will not be jealous.
I’ll be dead, and if heaven exists, I’ll have better things to do.
I laughed while crying.
Lauren.
Even terrified, she had made jokes.
The last line:
Just make sure she loves Jordan and Justin enough to notice when their feet are cold.
I stopped breathing.
Annie began sobbing.
The blankets.
That first night.
Lauren’s habit.
Children don’t wake because they’re cold. They wake because they need to know someone noticed.
I handed Annie the letter.
She read it.
Then pressed it against her chest.
“I never met her.”
“She would have liked you.”
“You don’t know that.”
“She hated fake people.”
Annie laughed through tears.
“So that’s your evidence?”
“Yes.”
We visited Lauren’s grave the following Sunday.
The twins brought flowers.
Annie stayed behind.
I turned.
“Come.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“This is family.”
I held out my hand.
“So are you.”
She took it.
At the grave, Jordan told Lauren about kindergarten.
Justin showed her a drawing.
Then Jordan said:
“Mommy, Annie sleeps at our house.”
I nearly choked.
Annie covered her face.
Jordan continued seriously:
“Daddy kisses her.”
“Jordan.”
“What?”
Annie laughed.
I knelt beside Lauren’s stone.
“I miss you.”
The wind moved through the trees.
For once, grief did not feel like drowning.
It felt like carrying someone forward.
That evening I opened the safe where Lauren’s wedding ring had remained for almost two years.
I held it.
Then closed the box.
Not forgetting.
Releasing.
I knew what I wanted.
I bought a ring for Annie.
But before I could propose, the Morrison Dynamics board called.
Federal investigators had completed their review.
The company was cleared of current criminal activity.
I could return permanently as CEO.
The board offered a compensation package worth nearly ninety million dollars over five years.
There was one condition.
Return to the old schedule.
Travel.
International expansion.
Constant availability.
I stared at the contract.
Five years earlier, I would have signed before finishing the first page.
Now Jordan’s school play was Friday.
Justin had soccer Saturday.
Annie had started taking evening classes in child development.
I closed the folder.
“No.”
The board chairman stared.
“No?”
“I’ll remain CEO under revised terms.”
“Daniel—”
“Family first.”
“That isn’t realistic.”
I smiled.
“Then find another CEO.”
They revised the terms.
Turns out billion-dollar companies can survive fathers attending kindergarten plays.
Who knew?
Friday evening I sat in the second row.
Jordan wore a cardboard moon costume.
Justin was a tree.
Neither role made sense.
I applauded like they were winning Oscars.
Annie sat beside me.
She leaned over.
“You’re crying.”
“Dust.”
“Inside an auditorium?”
“Very aggressive dust.”
She smiled.
I looked at her.
And suddenly I couldn’t wait.
I reached into my jacket.
Annie’s eyes widened.
“Daniel.”
I dropped to one knee between folding chairs.
Everyone around us gasped.
Onstage, Justin shouted:
“DADDY’S DOING IT!”
The audience erupted in laughter.
I opened the box.
“Annie Reed Sloan—”
She groaned.
“Nobody uses my middle surname.”
“Focus.”
She laughed and cried simultaneously.
“You entered my house looking for evidence.”
More laughter.
“You found two terrified boys and one emotionally incompetent billionaire.”
“That’s accurate.”
“You taught my sons that adults can stay.”
My voice broke.
“You taught me too.”
Annie covered her mouth.
“Will you marry me?”
She looked at Jordan.
At Justin.
Then at me.
“Yes.”
The twins ran off the stage before the teacher could stop them.
They tackled us.
May you like
The entire auditorium stood applauding.
For once, I didn’t care who was watching.
