14. Chapter Fourteen #2
He closed his eyes. He wanted to ask if it helped. He wanted to ask if she could see herself beside him again. Both questions would turn his work into a demand on her.
“You should’ve heard it months ago,” he said.
“Yes. I should have.”
The direct answer hurt. It also felt clean. Nicole wasn’t taking care of him by pretending otherwise.
“What happens when there’s another film this important?” she asked. “Or a star with enough power to insist the rules don’t apply?”
“Sofia stays in charge of Brittle. The executives I gave authority to will keep it. Family time stays fixed. I manage my own calendar and my own phone. And the policy applies to powerful people most of all, because they’re the ones everyone was afraid to tell no.”
“And if they threaten to walk?”
“We handle the business result. I don’t handle them by giving away our life.”
“Our life,” she repeated.
Alexander looked down. “The life I want,” he corrected. “I know I don’t get to call it ours for you.”
“We’re still married, Alexander.”
“I know.”
“I’m not correcting you to give you hope.”
“I know that too.”
She was quiet long enough that he heard a soft sound in the background, then a door closing. He pictured Nicole checking on Prim and Rose, but he didn’t ask. She’d called to speak to him, not to report every movement in her parents’ house.
“Tell me what you think a different marriage would look like,” she said.
He didn’t answer with love. She already knew he loved her.
“Work doesn’t get first claim on me,” he said. “Being their father isn’t something I do when the studio leaves room. I stay an equal parent. I know their school, meals, baths, clothes, fears, and the things that make them laugh. I carry the planning instead of waiting for you to hand me a list.”
Nicole didn’t speak, so he continued.
“Your work gets protected time because it matters. Your rest gets protected time because you matter when you aren’t producing something for anyone.
I answer my own phone. I tell you myself if a real problem comes up.
I don’t assume you can absorb whatever I drop because you’re capable.
And I don’t make public choices that affect you without asking you first.”
“What if I say no to an event you think matters?” she asked.
“Then you don’t go. And I decide whether the event matters enough to send someone else. Your ‘no’ isn’t a problem for me to solve.”
Her breath caught, very softly. “You’ve thought about this,” she said.
“I’ve lived enough of what I should’ve been doing to understand some of it. I’m sure there are still things I don’t see. I have to listen when you tell me, not wait until you leave to believe you.”
“I can see the change,” Nicole said. “The girls can feel it.”
His throat tightened. “I’m glad.”
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
Every muscle in his body went still. “All right.”
“After I left, I met with Harold Sutton.”
Alexander knew the name. Anyone in Los Angeles with his money and his marriage would know it. Harold Sutton handled divorces that came with companies, trusts, press interest, and people willing to fight over every inch.
Nicole continued before he could speak. “I asked him to explain the prenup, custody, child support, and what would happen if I filed for divorce.”
Divorce. The word stripped every other thought away.
Alexander gripped the edge of the table. Questions crowded behind his teeth. What had Harold advised? Had Nicole signed anything? Did he think she could take the girls? When would Alexander know? Every question asked her to manage his fear.
He forced his hand to loosen. “Have you decided to file?”
“No. I haven’t decided. I told him to prepare nothing.”
Relief came, sharp and immediate. Alexander didn’t trust it. No filing wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t a promise. It was only the truth Nicole had chosen to give him.
“I don’t want a divorce,” he said. “I need to be honest about that.”
“I know.”
“But I understand why you went.”
“Do you?”
“You needed facts that didn’t come from me. You needed to know my money couldn’t trap you or take the girls from you.”
Nicole was silent.
“I hate that I made you afraid of that,” he said. “I won’t use lawyers to bury you. I won’t use the prenup to punish you. I won’t threaten you with money, security, the house, or my name. And I will never use Prim and Rose to pressure you into staying married to me.”
“Even if I file?”
His chest tightened until his next breath hurt. “Even if you file.”
“You’d fight for time with them.”
“Yes. I’ll always fight to be their father. But I won’t turn them into a fight against you. They need both of us to protect their relationship with the other parent.”
“Harold said the same thing.”
Alexander could’ve asked what else Harold said. He didn’t.
“Whatever you choose,” he said, “I’ll keep the schedule. I’ll keep learning. I’ll keep changing the studio. None of that depends on you coming home.”
Nicole’s voice softened. “I believe you mean that.”
Hope moved through him again, quieter this time.
“I believe you’re changing,” she said. “Not for one week. Not because you think one good weekend should fix us. I see it.”
Alexander pressed his thumb against his wedding ring. “Thank you for telling me.”
“But I’m still not ready to come home,” she said.
He let the disappointment reach him without making it hers to fix.
“I understand,” he said.
“You aren’t going to ask how long?”
“No.”
“You want to.”
“Very much.”
For the first time in the call, he heard a small trace of warmth in her breath. It wasn’t quite a laugh, but it was close.
“Good night, Alexander.”
“Good night, Nicole.”
Neither of them said I love you. Neither of them needed the words proved again. The call ended. Alexander stayed where he was, one hand near the silent phone. Nicole believed him. She wasn’t coming home. Both truths belonged to her, and he wouldn’t ask her to surrender either one.