63. Chloe
Two Months and Two Days Later
I park my Cherokee and walk up to the entrance with the intercom. Before I press the buzzer, curiosity gets the better of me, so I change my mind, go to the other door, and press my thumb against the reader. It clicks unlocked.
I guess if it didn’t, I would have my answer about whether or not my access has been disabled.
I got a text message the day before yesterday from Grace, asking me if I knew Derek had been discharged. I didn’t.
I laid awake all night expecting him to show up.
He didn’t.
I thought maybe he’d show up or call last night. He didn’t. His SUV is still parked in the garage where he left it. I don’t know if he has other vehicles or if any of his other siblings are currently staying here, but five of the eight parking spaces in front of the building where Grace and Derek would typically park are full. But she said she’s still staying with her father so I’m not sure if one of them is her car or not.
I haven’t talked to him in two months and two days. Not a word has been exchanged between us, verbally or in written form.
I’ve stayed in the house. I’ve been keeping busy. I’ve been back to work for almost six weeks. I felt a little claustrophobic so I rented a little office in Columbus because I felt like I needed to snap my brain out of a funk and thought it might be good for the company to have a physical location. And I needed to get out of that house. Away from the ghost of my so-called marriage.
So, I hired two local people and brought in the rest of the team for a team meeting two weeks ago. The company name has been changed to Amplified Marketing and Frank and I run it together. I’ve made him a partner.
Getting into a routine has helped, but I’ve still spent a whole lot of time pondering my situation. Thankfully, I’ve been busy, I’ve had people I care about around me, and I’ve been working on healing. From a lot of things. I’ve been in weekly counseling appointments and I’m sure that helped me face Adam last week without getting angry.
I was out with Coraline and Alannah. He was about to be seated at a table next to us. He was with an attractive woman. He looked at me with panic and requested to be moved.
It didn’t even ruin my evening.
I’ve spent countless hours considering all that’s happened. With Adam and me. With Derek and me. With Derek and everyone.
I saw Carson again the night he took Derek to the hospital. He came by while I was with my friends and packed a bag for Derek, telling me that Derek wanted him to tell me to please stay in our house, ensuring I’m safe. Please use my bank cards linked to his accounts for anything I need, and he wanted me to know the household bills are being taken care of by his accountant. Carson told me to let him know if there’s anything I need. To please continue to be vigilant about my safety and let Kenny continue to watch over me.
I told Carson I wanted someone else to watch over me. Having “Kenny” point a gun at me more than once, having him carry me kicking and screaming to Derek? I wasn’t in the mood to set eyes on him again. Carson didn’t ask why I didn’t want it to be Ken, just said he’d take care of it. Security for the house and for me is now generally handled on rotation between two guys, Chuck (during the day) and Fen (in the evening). I occasionally see Ken’s blue SUV out there at night, so he’s obviously still involved, but he hasn’t bothered me.
I was paid a surprise visit by Derek’s father and Grace about a week after Derek left. We had coffee. Michael tried to get a beat on where I’m at. I didn’t give him much. He reminded me that Steeles don’t divorce. I told him I knew that. I told him Derek needed help, that I hoped he would get well. I reminded him that I made this clear the first time I met them.
Michael reminded me that it’s important that I not speak to the press. Grace got annoyed with him and defended me, telling him I’d never do something like that. He looked me over with scrutiny and, if I’m not mistaken, a little bit of a threatening manner, but let it drop.
A few weeks later, Michael phoned me and told me that the security issues for the family have been dealt with.
“Do I want to know what that means?” I asked.
“You don’t,” he replied. “Just know that the people who attacked us are no longer threats. That doesn’t mean there are no threats, just not those ones.”
“How reassuring,” I muttered sarcastically.
He went on, “My son might not be prepared to cancel your security until he’s back in his regular life, but I want you to feel more at ease about your safety.”
“I appreciate that,” I said. “And how are you doing?”
He was silent for a moment, then replied. “I’m getting there, Chloe. I’ve had two joint counseling sessions with Derek and his counselor. I think they helped. Helped us both. We have another one next week.”
“Oh,” I said, “That’s good.”
He held the phone. I think he hoped I’d ask questions about that. Or give him clues about what I thought about Derek at this point. When I didn’t say anything, he said, “Thank you for asking.”
“Take care of yourself, Michael,” I replied.
He hesitantly said goodbye. But I suspected he wanted to ask me about my relationship with his son.
After that call, I scanned the papers for any news in New York, for any follow-up about Shannon’s funeral, but nothing. Then again, I already knew the Steele family had a way of sweeping things under the rug.
I’ve been to my parents’ place twice.
And both visits were quite therapeutic. The first one was the three of us for an overnight visit. We went to dinner and a movie.
I had to explain why I had a security detail. I told them there were still unresolved issues related to Derek’s mother’s death.
Mom and I did some antique store hopping the next day and had so much fun that she invited me for another weekend to go to an antique and craft show with her while Dad was away at a dental convention.
I fibbed, saying Derek was away for work both times. I don’t feel good about fibbing, but was not remotely prepared to share the details of my Derek saga with them.
On my last visit, she insisted that she and Dad soon come spend the weekend at our house with me and Derek. She said she wants to give us the family collection of board games, for us to play some together.
I got weepy. So did she. We hugged it out and we talked about Bryan.
She opened up a bit, too, telling me that she felt like there was a distance between us for the past decade or so, that she felt like I didn’t want much to do with them, like I had moved on with my life and left them behind. She didn’t do it with accusation, she chalked a lot up to grieving after Bryan, saying she knows she wasn’t very present for my last few years before going away for college.
I assured her I want her and Dad in my life, that I’m thrilled to be spending time with them. I also told her that Derek ran an investigation and found information on my birth parents. Mom looked hurt and upset about that. I told her I had no desire to open the file and read it. She told me that she sent my birth mother annual birthday pictures for four years and that the last year she did that, the letter was returned to her as my birth mother had moved and not given a forwarding address. Mom and Dad remained at my childhood home all this time and had never heard from her. She obviously moved on with her life.
In a roundabout way, it kind of feels like Derek gave me my family back. There was some sort of turning point when he took me there to talk about us getting married that made my mom decide to put in some effort. And I’m so glad she did.
Grace has invited me to lunch twice, the second time with her and Naomi. I made excuses both times. She told me they think I’m a miracle worker and wanted to know how I did it, how I convinced Derek to agree to get help.
My response was that I would be happy to stay in contact if she didn’t ask me about Derek. She asked if I wanted an update about him. I declined. She gave me one anyway, saying he was in a rigorous program and that she’d visited him at the thirty-day mark. I didn’t ask how he was. She told me he was doing well anyway.
Alannah has been here for me, as always. We do dinner together at least twice a week. I’ve told her everything. She has strong opinions on the Derek matter, and though she mostly keeps them to herself she made a point of saying that although she plans to hold a grudge, she would not hold it against me if I gave him a chance, since he went to the trouble of getting help and the fact that he’s left me alone for all this time might mean he’s taking his treatment seriously. The way she laid it out, I know she thinks I should give him a chance.
She told me she’d hold her grudge silently if I do. So long as she sees that I’m happy. If not, there’s no chance she’ll be silent.
Maybe he’s well enough to realize how utterly over-the-top and unhinged he was. Maybe reason and logic have returned. I guess I’m about to find out. The elevator stops on the top floor and my thumbprint still unlocks the apartment door.
I knock anyway. And wait, holding the legal-sized envelope I plan to hand him.
I give it about two minutes before I open the door and peek in.
I don’t see anyone, but it’s clear someone’s here. There’s a pair of black high heels in front of me, one standing up, the other on its side. There’s a pink scarf on the console table. Some keys. A Louis Vuitton clutch. Straight ahead, I see a Christmas tree by the wall of windows. Christmas is next week. It’s about half-decorated. There are open ornament boxes on the floor. It smells like pine and like sugar cookies.
I startle in surprise and back away when I hear, “Who’s there?” from a female voice.
Stunned, I back out and rush to the elevator, which is mercifully still on this floor, stab the button about twenty times, willing the door to hurry up and close before whoever she is comes down the hall. Or… before he does.
Thankfully, the door shuts before I have to face anyone and I exhale hard, heart pounding hard as the elevator descends to the main floor.
I book it out of there, pulling out and seeing – I think – Ash pulling in.
I drop the envelope on the kitchen counter and down a half a bottle of cold water from the fridge. I stare into space after this for a good two minutes before I spontaneously burst into tears.