LOGIN(Chase)I’m in the car before my mind really catches up with what just happened.I have a vague auditory recollection of my own voice saying something with the words vapid, manufactured, and parasitic in it.Then there’s a perfectly crisp visual recollection of Chloe tilting her head to the side with her phone in her hand.I knew it had been recording inside the first three seconds of our conversation.I watched her keep hold of it when she asked her question.And I answered anyway.This is the part I’m going to spend the rest of my life thinking about.Reeves is driving.He hasn’t said anything since I got in and told him to take me home.I roll the window down two inches.We’re on Sunset before I have my phone out and unlocked.The clip is already up.On more than one platform.I watch it once.It’s twenty-four seconds long.Chloe cropped out the question. The clip starts in the middle of my answer.What the world is now getting to watch is Chase Warren in a tuxedo, glass in hand, l
(Mason)The Warren Global Foundation gala is on Saturday, and I’ve spent most of Friday afternoon trying to talk myself out of what I’m about to do.I’m not winning the argument.The argument keeps going like this.Mason. You’re a grown man. You own a mergers and acquisitions firm. You’re about to weaponize a twenty-six-year-old woman whose primary crime is being too sincere about wellness, in order to provoke a public outburst from the husband of the woman you’re in love with.To which I have, all afternoon, been responding with various versions of yes, but he deserves it.I pick Chloe up from her apartment at six forty-five.She’s wearing a white dress that is very tight and very short but also looks really good against her tan skin.Her dark hair is up, with carefully arranged tendrils framing her face.She’s radiating the specific brightness of a young woman who’s been told she’s going to be photographed and has prepared accordingly."Mason! Oh my God, you look so handsome.""Than
(Natasha)I wake up to the sound of someone arguing with a vending machine.This is, as openings to consciousness go, a low bar to clear.I’ve woken up to worse.Last week I woke up in a hotel suite in Beverly Hills next to Julian.Before that I woke up to a custody filing accusing me of being too sick to raise my own daughter.Before that I woke up to find my husband's mistress wandering around his kitchen wearing his shirt and a mildly territorial expression.By those standards, a man losing a fight with a snack machine is practically a spa morning.The world goes away again.Then I open my eyes.White ceiling. White walls. A drip in my arm.I’m in the hospital.The events leading up to this come back to me in pieces.The voice of a woman I don’t know who’d appeared next to me at exactly the right moment.The voice is the part I remember most clearly.I have her. Give her to me. I have her.It was weirdly comforting.I turn my head.Mason is in the chair next to the bed.He’s asleep
(Chase)Natasha is on a gurney with paramedics around her.Barely conscious.Disturbingly pale.Her hand is going up to her face and one of the paramedics is gently lowering it back down.Lily is, against all reason, calm in the arms of another paramedic in green scrubs.A man with a press lanyard is hovering at the edge of the cordon trying to get a quote from anyone who will give him one.I want to break his jaw.The only reason I don’t is because the cameras across the street would enjoy it too much, and Natasha needs me.I rush to her side."I'm here. Everything’s going to be okay."She turns her head, tries to say something, but her eyes are not quite tracking.The paramedic next to her tells me, without looking up, that her blood pressure is in her boots and they’re going to take her in.I take Lily from the woman in scrubs.Lily makes a small joyous sound and then puts her face in my collar."I'm coming with her.""Sir?""I'm coming with her."The paramedic doesn’t argue.He’s
(Clarice)I’ve been telling myself that I’m only following her because I want to make sure she’s alright.This is a lie.I’m following her because I can’t make myself stop.I haven’t seen her in over twenty years and now I’m addicted. Obsessed.Hendrik is back in New York for the week.Sonia is in Paris and not speaking to me.And there is, every morning when I wake up, a low hum in my chest that doesn’t subside until I’m physically in the same square mile of city as Natasha.I’ve driven past her office.I’ve driven past her townhouse.Twice I’ve sat in the car park of St. Jude's and watched her walk Lily in for an appointment and out again.I haven’t dared to approach her.I tell myself the hat and the sunglasses are because I don’t want to alarm her.This is also a lie.I don’t want her to see me, full stop.That’s a confrontation I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for.Today I’ve followed her to the courthouse.I’m at the back of the press cluster on the steps, in a wide-brimmed hat a
(Natasha)The hearing is set for nine.It does not start at nine.It does not start at nine fifteen, or nine thirty.By the time the bailiff opens the courtroom doors at nine forty-two, I’ve been standing in a corridor in shoes that hate me, holding a six-month-old who’s decided this is the morning to discover the concept of refusing to be still.Sarah's daughter has chickenpox, she’s at the pediatrician with her right now.Which is why she can’t be here to help me with Lily.Lily has tests later. The hospital is less than five minutes from the courthouse.The hearing is procedural and not supposed to take more than twenty minutes.Leaving her with my mother and driving back and forth seemed silly.So Lily is here on my hip in a pale pink romper, wriggling around like it’s an Olympic event.I’ve made worse decisions this month.It’s a less comforting thought than it ought to be.Chase is across the corridor with three lawyers and the worst expression I’ve ever seen on his face.It loo
(Chase)Lily will not sleep.She was fine during the show, fine through the chaos of the evening, perfectly content while Mason was here and the room was full of noise and movement.The moment things quieted down she decided she had opinions about it.I walk her through the townhouse in slow loops,
(Natasha)The drawing room buzzes with the sound of Eleanor’s guests.The string quartet is playing a lively, hollow tune. But the social adrenaline is fading from my bloodstream.Chase hasn’t come back and I can only assume he’s spending the night with Sonia.I don’t know why I’m even allowing tha
(Chase)I close the nursery door quietly after making sure the baby is still sleeping peacefully.The nurse promised to call me when she wakes and needs to be fed.Walking down the long hallway toward my study, I realize that the house feels entirely different with my daughter here.The quiet empti
(Nathanial)Walking up the wide stone steps of the Warren estate, I keep a close eye on my sister.Sonia walks stiffly beside me, keeping her hands carefully folded over her perfectly flat stomach.She shivers, blaming the cold wind, but I know she’s anxious about seeing Chase and Natasha’s child.







