Chapter 2 #2
The second they were gone, it felt like someone had opened a window in a room that’d been sealed for so long, there had been hardly any oxygen left in it. I was still crouched beside the table with a bunch of soaked napkins in my hands and my heartbeat refusing to slow down.
The waiter reappeared like magic, taking over from me and doing a significantly better job of mopping up the spill in no time at all. I pushed back to my feet and sat down again, flushing under Uncle Clark’s gaze as he looked at me.
“I’m so sorry about that,” I said, suddenly feeling like I’d run a marathon in the wrong direction. “I hope you managed to wrap up your meeting before I barged in.”
He waved me off and my breath stalled in my lungs. I was sure he was going to ask me about Zach and I had no idea what to say. But instead, he leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Don’t worry about that, sweetheart. It was just water. How are your girls doing?”
“They’re as good as they can be,” I said, surprised as heck but not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. If he was willing to drop it, I was more than willing to let him. “The school here will be fantastic and they’re adapting faster than I thought.”
“That’s great news. One has to be able to adapt to overcome.” He nodded thoughtfully, those blue eyes of his a little hazy before he refocused on me. “Have you given any more thought to what we talked about before?”
So that’s why he wanted to have lunch today.
“You mean have I thought more about moving to Washington?”
“Yes, darling. You said you’d consider it.”
Darn it. I should’ve seen this coming.
In my generation, I was the only woman in a sea of Morris boys and I’d been my parents’ only child. No siblings to act as a buffer and no backup. So now that both my parents were gone, it was just me and two little girls who still thought the world could be made safe as long as I was beside them.
“I’m fine here,” I said, but it came out weaker than I’d wanted it to. “Thank you so much for worrying about us, but we really are doing alright. Like I said, the girls are adjusting well to the city and there’s been more than enough changes in their lives for now.”
He sighed. “Speaking of all that change, how’s the divorce progressing? Is the end finally in sight?”
“It’s moving along, but no. I don’t think the end is in sight just yet,” I said carefully, knowing that neither he nor any of my other uncles were happy about the legal proceedings taking this long. “You know Louis.”
Louis Weatherby, my soon-to-be ex-husband, had torn our lives to shreds, and he still wasn’t happy. He wasn’t just being difficult. He’d turned it into a freaking art form.
“I do know Louis, which is why I extended the offer to get you in touch with a better lawyer,” Uncle Clark said. “Someone more experienced with high-conflict divorces.”
“It won’t matter in the end,” I said. “I just want it to be over.”
He studied me for a long moment. “You understand that the longer this drags on, the worse it looks.”
“I do.” I nodded, understanding a lot more than just that. “I also understand what it does to the Morris name.”
The fact of the matter was that as a senator, he was a public-facing member of my family, and right now, I was reputational damage in human form. I had a disgraced father, a dead mother, a divorce in progress, two daughters, no husband, and no visible stability.
Old families like ours didn’t only need money to survive. Perception was almost as important and the perception of us at the moment, because of me, was a problem.
Clark blew out a long breath and reached for his drink, a tumbler of amber liquid I was sure was whiskey that cost enough to pay my rent for two months. “I spoke to my father last week.”
My stomach tightened. Shit, shit, shit.
Clark Morris, Sr. was my grandfather, the man who’d arranged my marriage to Louis to begin with, and I was pretty sure he hadn’t spoken to my uncle about life or golf. If he was getting involved again, I was in trouble.
“I hope you’ll send him my love when you speak to him again,” I said, hoping he’d leave it at that.
“We talked about you, Adeline,” he said, his gaze unwavering on my own. “About how it would be wise for you to be married again.”
I felt like he’d punched me right in the airway, but again, I should’ve seen it coming. My divorce wasn’t even finalized yet, and here they were, already plotting the road to the next one.
It was a pattern in families like mine, a system that worked for some but had failed me spectacularly. I couldn’t believe they were already talking about this, but simultaneously, I was already bracing myself for the inevitable.
This is how it goes, isn’t it? One day, you’re struggling to stay afloat trying to divorce a man who ripped your life to pieces, and the next, you’re staring down the barrel of another match being arranged for you.
I would’ve laughed right in his face at the mere suggestion of it, but one look at him told me that he was serious—and that I’d better be ready for them to intervene soon if I couldn’t push this divorce through soon.