CHAPTER SEVEN
Laurel
Evelyn had been living at the mansion for nineteen days when she packed for the weekend.
Her suitcase waited beside the breakfast room while she inspected the food Rosa had prepared for Laurel. She opened every container, questioned the amount of salt in the soup, and added two portions of roasted vegetables after deciding the refrigerator looked neglected.
“I am leaving for two nights, not relocating to another continent,” Evelyn announced. “If you need me, I can return in three hours.”
Laurel rested one hand beneath her stomach. At eight months, standing required planning and sitting required negotiation with furniture.
“I'll be fine.”
“You said that last Tuesday. Graham did not come home until Wednesday afternoon.”
“He promised he would be here tonight.”
Evelyn pressed her lips together. Her arguments with Graham had become part of the mansion's routine. She challenged every unexplained absence. He accused her of interfering. Laurel usually heard the final exchange from upstairs after the details had already been hidden.
“Come with me,” Evelyn offered. “The country house is quiet. We can spend tomorrow criticizing my garden.”
“Graham arranged dinner.”
“He can eat it alone and consider the experience educational.”
Laurel smiled. “I want to speak with him.”
Evelyn studied her before collecting her handbag. “Then make him listen. Do not accept a schedule for when you are permitted to be hurt.”
She embraced Laurel carefully and touched her stomach. Samuel moved beneath her palm.
“At least one Weller is pleased to see me.”
“He kicks everyone.”
“An excellent judge of character.”
After Evelyn left, the mansion settled into an unfamiliar stillness.
Graham came downstairs shortly before eight, dressed in trousers and an undershirt. He kissed Laurel's cheek while passing her on his way to the kitchen.
“I'll leave after nine. We can have dinner at seven.”
“You promised the whole evening.”
“I need to sign several documents at the office.”
“Can't they be brought here?”
He opened the refrigerator and selected a bottle of water. “I will be home before midnight.”
Laurel had heard the same estimate on nights that ended the following morning.
Graham returned upstairs to shower. His phone remained on the kitchen counter, connected to a charger.
Laurel began preparing breakfast. She sliced an apple, added yogurt to a bowl, and tried to concentrate on the evening ahead. She would ask about Taryn directly. She would tell him she had retained Nadine. She would not allow his irritation to shorten the conversation.
The phone vibrated. Taryn's name appeared on the screen.
You promised we would have tonight.
A second message followed.
I am tired of being hidden whenever your mother visits.
Laurel stood beside the counter while the screen dimmed.
She could leave the phone untouched. She could confront Graham using only the messages she had seen and endure another discussion about incomplete evidence.
The phone vibrated a third time.
You said you loved me more than her. Was that another lie?
Laurel entered the code Graham had used for years. Samuel's expected birth month opened the screen.
The conversation filled weeks.
Graham had messaged Taryn during prenatal appointments, dinners with Evelyn, and nights he slept beside Laurel.
Laurel scrolled upward.
I have spent three years running your life and hiding my own, and you still can't say my name to your own mother.
This is temporary.
You have been saying that since she got pregnant.
I can't file before the acquisition closes. There was no prenup, and she still has records from the beginning.
So I wait. Again.
Laurel scrolled further back.
Do you love her again?
No.
Then what is she?
Nothing answered for almost an hour. Laurel could picture him staring at his own silence before he finally typed something back.
An obligation I cannot afford to remove yet.
Has the baby made her beautiful to you again, or is she still just something you're managing until it's over?
She is less attractive now, and everything revolves around the baby. I'm doing what's necessary until the birth.
Further down, a photograph waited, Taryn in a black dress, the caption beneath it asking whether he still wanted her.
I love you. I wish I had married you instead.
Water stopped running upstairs.
Laurel remained beside the counter with the phone in her hand.
Graham entered wearing a towel around his waist, rubbing another across his hair. He saw her expression first. Then he saw the phone.
“What are you doing?”
Laurel turned the screen toward him. “Finding the problem.”
He crossed the kitchen quickly and seized the device. His fingers closed around Laurel's wrist before he pulled it free.
Pain ran into her hand.
“Let go of me.”
Graham released her. “How much did you read?”
“Enough to know that every change you made was a performance.”
“You had no right to enter my phone.”
“You brought her into our marriage. You brought her into our home. You brought her into the room where our son was conceived, and now you want privacy?”
His face tightened. “Lower your voice.”
“There is no one here to protect you from the sound of what you did.”
Graham picked up his clothing from a chair. “I am not discussing this while you are hysterical.”
“I sold my grandmother's house because you could not pay your employees.” Laurel followed him into the hall.
Her body felt cumbersome, but anger kept her moving.
“I worked nights so you could meet investors during the day. I left school. I stopped speaking to my sister because she said you were taking too much from me, and I defended you.”
Graham pulled on his trousers without answering.
“I gave you my work and let you call it support. I gave you my money and let you call it repayment when you returned a fraction of what it became. I gave you four years of my life, Graham. Even after I heard you with her, I stayed because I believed the man I married still existed somewhere inside the one humiliating me.”
“Laurel, stop.”
“I gave you my health. I allowed doctors to examine me for three years while you blamed my body for what we could not have. Then I finally became pregnant, and you used our child to keep me quiet while telling Taryn I was ugly.”
“I did not call you ugly.”
“You called me less attractive. Should I be grateful for the precision?”
Graham buttoned his shirt with uneven movements. “The acquisition could determine the future of thousands of employees. If you begin divorce proceedings now, your financial claim could destabilize the company.”
Laurel stared at him.
“You read all of that, and your concern is the acquisition?”
“I am explaining why we cannot make impulsive decisions.”
“My decision is not impulsive. I made it before I discovered I was pregnant.”
That stopped him.
Laurel's voice weakened, but she did not turn away. “There was a letter beside your bed on our anniversary. My suitcase was packed. I burned the letter because I thought Samuel had returned my husband to me.”
Graham looked toward her stomach.
“You should have let me leave.”
“We will discuss this after the baby is born.”
“No.”
“You are eight months pregnant and emotionally overwhelmed. This is not the time to dismantle our marriage.”
Laurel placed one hand over Samuel. “There will be no marriage after he is born.”
Graham's expression became unfamiliar in its stillness.
He entered the guest suite and emerged with an overnight bag. At the foot of the stairs, he looked back as though expecting Laurel to withdraw the decision.
She did not.
He carried the bag outside.
A minute later, his car passed beyond the gates. Laurel remained on the landing until the engine could no longer be heard, one hand supporting Samuel while the other still bore the red impression of Graham's fingers.