Chapter 11 - The Woman Who Came to My Door
Six months after Victor’s arrest, Rebecca came to our house.
Lily’s mother.
I recognized her from old photographs.
She was fifty now.
Elegant.
Tired.
Beside her stood Lily.
Except Lily was no longer six.
She was twenty-three.
Edward opened the door.
Then stopped breathing.
“Lily?”
She smiled.
“Hi, Eddie.”
Edward began crying before she finished his name.
He hugged her.
For several minutes, I witnessed another piece of my husband returning from the dead.
Rebecca hugged me next.
“You must be Rachel.”
“That seems to be everyone’s favorite sentence.”
She laughed.
“I deserve that.”
They had lived in New Zealand under security arrangements for years.
Victor’s arrest finally allowed them to return openly.
At dinner, Lily told Jamie embarrassing stories about Edward.
“He fell out of my treehouse.”
Jamie looked delighted.
“Dad?”
“I slipped.”
“You screamed.”
“I was surprised.”
“You screamed like a six-year-old.”
Jamie nearly fell off his chair laughing.
I watched Edward.
This was a version I had never known.
Not wealthy Edward.
Young Edward.
Before fear.
After Jamie went upstairs, Rebecca asked to speak with me.
We sat outside.
“I owe you an apology.”
“Why?”
“Edward called me the week before your wedding.”
I closed my eyes.
Apparently everyone had pre-wedding information except the bride.
“He told me about the photograph someone sent.”
“Yes.”
“What did you tell him?”
Rebecca looked ashamed.
“I told him not to tell you.”
That surprised me.
“Why?”
“I was still terrified.”
She looked toward Lily.
“I had spent years moving my daughter from place to place. I thought secrecy was safety.”
She paused.
“I told Edward if you loved him without knowing who he was, he could give you a normal life.”
I exhaled.
“You were wrong.”
“Yes.”
“I’m tired of people apologizing for helping my husband lie.”
“I imagine.”
Rebecca looked at me.
“But there’s something else you should know.”
I waited.
“He wanted to walk away from Whitmore permanently.”
“When?”
“The week you got married.”
“He told me.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I mean legally surrender the trust.”
That was new.
Edward had prepared documents giving his shares to Claire.
Then Charles stopped him.
“Why?”
“Because Charles told him surrendering ownership wouldn’t remove the threat. It would simply transfer it to Claire.”
So Edward stayed connected.
Not because he wanted the money.
Because his absence could endanger someone else.
Again.
Every moral choice in his world came with invisible wires.
“You still think I should forgive him?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“I think you should decide without anybody telling you what you should do.”
Finally.
Someone understood.
Later that night, I found Edward washing dishes.
“Lily seems wonderful.”
“She is.”
“You never told me about her.”
“No.”
“Does talking about all these lies ever become embarrassing?”
“Hourly.”
I smiled slightly.
Then became serious.
“Rebecca told me about the trust.”
Edward dried his hands.
“I didn’t want that to sound like an excuse.”
“Good.”
“I could have told you.”
“Yes.”
“I should have.”
“Yes.”
He smiled weakly.
“You’re getting predictable.”
“So are you.”
I stepped closer.
“You know what scares me?”
“What?”
“That I understand you.”
Edward’s expression softened.
“I don’t want understanding if it costs you your anger.”
“It doesn’t.”
I looked at him.
“I understand why you lied.”
He waited.
“And I’m still angry.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
“But I’m less angry than I was yesterday.”
Hope appeared.
I hated how much I loved seeing it.
So I kissed him.
One kiss.
Brief.
Edward didn’t move afterward.
He looked stunned.
“That wasn’t forgiveness.”
“I know.”
“Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m trying very hard.”
I walked away.
Behind me, Jamie shouted from upstairs.
“DID MOM KISS YOU?”
Edward yelled back.
May you like
“GO TO BED.”
I laughed for five straight minutes.
