Page 100 of Bargaining

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Always me, huh? Then why didn’t you ever call me when you left here? Why didn’t you reply to my emails? You kissed me and said all those things to me. Do you know how much it hurt me? To be ignored. I felt like you hated me, and I didn’t even know what I’d done wrong.”

One of Roy’s photos stared down at me from the wall. I’d loved him. He’d been a father to me. I couldn’t betray his memory. It wasn’t right. “Because I was young and selfish. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

She drew a breath and turned to face me. “You did. Then and now. It has to end. I’ll never tell anyone about the contract. But please don’t make this divorce harder than it needs to be. Let’s get it done swiftly so we can both move on. It’s just an admin task. At least this time it’s one without an audience.”

“Divorce? You don’t really want that. I can’t leave you here. Come back with me.”

“Why? So you can dump me in the middle of nowhere again with your housekeeper to babysit me?”

My fingers itched to reach for her, but I didn’t dare. Instead, I placed my fingertips lightly next to hers on the glass. “No. So that I can look after you. To love and to cherish. From this day forward.”

“This was a farce from day one. You’ve never wanted a wife. You wanted an employee.”

“I was a fool.”

She shook her head and let her hand drop to her side. “If you care about me as much as you claim, then you’ll leave me alone. Let me move on. Please. This has to end.”

She was so cold and composed. So strong. Something was cracking inside of me. A hairline fracture splitting wide open and she didn’t even care.

“This has been a terrible couple of years. I want to heal, Cole.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to help you with. I want to bring you joy.”

She held herself rigid and composed. “I have to bring myself joy, too. I have to protect myself.”

Because I’m something to be endured.“From me?”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “You hurt me. You’re going to keep hurting me if I allow it. It’s better for both of us if we don’t see each other again. I won’t cause you any bother with the divorce. Let’s just get it done quickly.”

The words landed in my chest like fists. She was looking at me like I was a stranger. The way she’d looked at me when I saw her again at Roy’s funeral. A huge surge of anxiety stole my breath. She meant it. This was over. Deals went in my favor, but this was collapsing, and I had no idea how to salvage it. I could tell her the truth about Roy, but it would only hurt her more, and it might not even be enough. He wasn’t around to explain himself or defend his corner. It wasn’t right. A promise was a promise. I only wanted to make her life better.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m sorry.” I sank to my knees. My hands were trembling as I took both of her hands in mine. “Please.”

I didn’t know what I was begging for.Forgive me. Please know how much I want to make this right. Please say you love me, too.

Her voice was quiet and strained. “Get up. Please, don’t make it worse.”

Unsteadily, I stood.

She withdrew her hands and her eyes slipped away. Her sigh was the most final sound I’d ever heard. “I’m sorry. I really need you to leave now.”

Chapter 46

Charlotte

Numbness crept over me as I watched Cole’s driver ferry him away. It was over. My legs felt heavy, but I dragged myself up to Dad’s study.

“Hi, Dad,” I said to the air. “I’ve been to Rome. It was amazing. I bet we saw some of the same stuff.”

My pointless words lingered in the silence. So much silence. The desk sat exactly as Dad had left it when he’d stopped coming in here. Books piled high on his walnut desk, gathering dust. The chalk had long since faded from the blackboard on the wall. A dank smell clung to everything. I pulled open a desk drawer. There were decades’ worth of my dad’s treasures: old letters, fossil fragments, photographs of people I didn’t recognize, rusted toffee hammers, yellowing maps. It would all have to go. How?

At the back of a tall cabinet, I found a faded shoebox stuffed with leather-bound notebooks. I selected one at random. Dad’s neat, methodical handwriting filled the page.

I had a plan of activities to keep the girls entertained. Today was scrap-modeling. Much to Lottie’s distress,Tiffany decided that we should build a robot. With some coaxing, Lottie was persuaded, but alas things took a turn for the worse.

My heart pounded, and I slammed the book shut. This was a diary. It was a terrible invasion of privacy, but this was Dad’s voice leaping off the page. His intelligence, his wit, and his sparkling eyes. These were his private thoughts and experiences that I hadn’t been privy to. It wasn’t my business. But I couldn’t stop my eyes from drifting back.

I couldn’t get the tape off the roll quick enough, which caused Tiffany to have a tantrum. Not one to be outdone, Lottie soon joined her. In the end, both girls became locked in a battle to see who could cry the loudest. I finished the robot myself, using margarine tubs for feet and a silver foil antenna. In all honesty, it was magnificent. I have multiple degrees, but this robot will still stand as one of my greatest achievements.