로그인DAMIEN'S POVMay fifteenth we flew to Split.The flight was long and Elara slept for most of it with her head on my shoulder and a novel face down in her lap that she'd been reading in the airport and abandoned within twenty minutes of takeoff. I read through a Cross Industries report that James had sent and then put it away and watched the clouds below and let my mind go quiet.We landed in the early morning, local time, the Croatian coast visible from the descent. Blue that didn't look real until you were in it.The first island was Hvar.We took a ferry from Split harbor, forty minutes, the water already warm for May in a way the Adriatic apparently just was. Elara stood at the ferry railing the whole crossing with the wind doing things to her hair that she didn't bother correcting.The rental house was small, up a narrow stone street, with a terrace that looked directly at the harbor. No hotel lobby, no concierge, no one to manage anything. Just a key and a door and the view.She
ELARA'S POVMarch arrived and with it the news that Marcus Webb had started a new company.Damien read about it in the financial press on a Tuesday morning over coffee and mentioned it the way you mention something that has become genuinely irrelevant."Consulting firm," he said. "Focused on distressed assets.""Appropriate.""My thought exactly."He put his phone down and finished his coffee and that was the entirety of the Marcus Webb conversation. Two years ago that name would have required management, strategy, contingency planning. Now it was two sentences over breakfast.That was its own kind of progress.I booked Croatia the same week. Thirteen days in May, starting on the fifteenth. The islands south of Split that we hadn't reached last time, smaller and less visited, the kind of places that required ferries and some tolerance for uncertainty.Damien looked at the itinerary I sent him and said nothing about the ferry portions.Progress there too.The Henry Chen catalogue had i
DAMIEN'S POVFebruary brought the Henry Chen show's opening in Vancouver.We flew up the Thursday before, Elara and I, with Robert Chen on the same flight though he'd booked separately and we found him at the gate reading the catalogue proof he'd been carrying everywhere since January.He looked up when we sat nearby. "I've read it four times.""Finding errors?" Elara asked."Finding things I missed the first three times." He closed it. "There's a photograph on page forty-seven. My father at his studio in 1981. I didn't know that photograph existed until Patricia found it in the archives.""What does he look like?""Like himself. Exactly like himself." He paused. "That sounds obvious.""It's not obvious. Some people don't look like themselves in photographs."He looked at her for a moment. "No. They don't."The gallery was transformed for the show.Claire had worked with a lighting designer for two weeks getting the paintings positioned and lit correctly. Each piece required different
ELARA'S POVMy mother had stopped asking if we were coming and started asking what time we were arriving, which was the distinction that mattered. We were expecting. That was new in the best way.Damien brought the chess set again and a bottle of wine and a book my father had mentioned in passing three months ago that Thomas had completely forgotten mentioning but received with the recognition of someone who'd been thinking about it without realizing it."You wrote it down," my father said."Notes app," Damien said. "I keep one for everyone."My father looked at him for a moment. "Smart system.""Elara taught me. She's been doing it for years."Thomas looked at me. I shrugged. He went back to examining the book and I caught Damien's eye across the room and he looked away before either of us smiled.Christmas dinner was the usual production, my mother's cooking filling the house with the smell of something that required two days of preparation and disappeared in forty minutes. We sat a
DAMIEN'S POVNovember arrived and the Henry Chen catalogue became real.Elara had found a small independent publisher in Vancouver through Claire's network, a woman named Patricia Yuen who specialized in art documentation and understood immediately what the project was trying to do. They had one meeting and Patricia sent a contract within the week.I stayed entirely out of it.Not because I wasn't interested but because I'd learned the difference between interest and involvement, and this was Elara's project in a way that required me to be interested without being involved. I asked questions when she wanted to talk about it. I didn't offer solutions she hadn't asked for.That distinction had taken time to learn.She was at the dining table on a Saturday morning with the transcript documents spread around her, working through the editing with Claire over video call, when Robert Chen arrived at the gallery downstairs with two of his father's actual paintings.She'd told me he was bringi
ELARA'S POVI flew in on a Tuesday, without Damien, who had board meetings running through the week. This was my trip. Richard visits, the apartment, the art. I'd been clear about that and he'd been clear about respecting it.Richard's apartment was on the Upper East Side, different from the Cross family penthouse where Damien and I had lived during the marriage. That building had been sold two years ago. This was Richard's own space, smaller, chosen by him rather than inherited.Gerald the nurse let me in. Richard was in the sitting room in a chair by the window with a chess board set up on the table beside him, mid-game against himself or against a problem he'd been given. He stood when I came in, slowly but completely, the physical therapy evident in how deliberate and successful the movement was."Elara." He gestured to the chair across from him.I sat. Gerald brought coffee without being asked and disappeared.The apartment was what I'd expected. Expensive furniture chosen for st
DAMIEN'S POVWe arrived in Portland around five-thirty. Elara directed me to a small hotel near the gallery where she'd booked a room."There's a café next door," she said as I pulled into the parking lot. "The event starts at seven. I need to get ready and meet with the gallery owner first.""What
ELARA'S POVThe dinner with Maya and Sofia was scheduled for Saturday. I was more nervous than I should have been."Why are you so anxious?" Damien asked as we drove to the restaurant. "I've already survived Maya once.""That was when we were just figuring things out. Now we're actually together. T
DAMIEN'S POVThe legal team worked all weekend. By Monday morning, they had an injunction blocking the interview from airing. Victoria's lawyer called, furious."This is censorship. My client has a right to speak.""Your client is making defamatory claims," our lawyer responded. "If the interview a
DAMIEN'S POVVictoria showed up at my office unannounced.Security called up first. "Mr. Hartley, your mother is here. Should we send her up?""No. Tell her I'm unavailable.""She says it's urgent. About the legal case."I closed my eyes. "Fine. Send her up. But stay close."Three minutes later, Vi







