All Chapters of He Called Me His Wife’s Cousin : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

"You're coming back? Today?"Marcus stood up so fast behind the reception desk on the fourteenth floor that his chair rolled back into the wall. It was nine o'clock on Monday morning, and I was standing in front of him with my cardboard box in my arms."Legal called me on Saturday," I said. "The petition was dismissed. My leave is over.""I know. I heard." Marcus came around the desk and took the box from me before I could stop him. "I heard *everything*. The whole building heard everything.""Of course they did.""It was on the business news, Claire. 'Doyle Group Executive Accused of Bigamy.'" He lowered his voice. "Is it true? He was married to you the whole time?""Yes."Marcus whistled softly through his teeth. Then he looked at me, really looked, and his face changed. "Are you okay?"Nobody had asked me that all weekend. Not in those words.I swallowed. "I'm fine.""You're a terrible liar for someone who did it for two weeks," he said, not unkindly. He carried my box to my old de

"You don't have to come," Adrian said in the car. "I mean that. I'll do it either way."The Westgate office was across the river, twenty minutes from the Doyle building. Rain streaked the windows. His driver kept his eyes on the road and pretended not to listen."Why do you want me there?" I asked.He was quiet for a moment."Because for six years, he took things from you in rooms you weren't allowed into," he said. "Decisions. Money. Your name. I want you to watch him lose something in a room where you're standing."I looked at my hands in my lap."I'll come," I said. Then, after a moment: "Will this hurt Rachel?"Adrian looked out the window at the gray river sliding past."Everything hurts Rachel right now," he said. "Including me. Including you. But she'd want him gone from this company more than anyone. She just can't say it yet.""How do you know?""Because she called Helen this morning and asked if it was done yet." His mouth tightened. "That's the only thing she's said to anyo

"Ethan! Ethan Reid! Can I ask you a question, sweetheart?"Ethan had just come through the doors with Leo, the boy with the astronaut joke. They were laughing about something, shoving each other with their shoulders. Ethan's coat was unzipped. His spelling test was waving in his hand like a flag.Then he heard his name, and he stopped laughing.The reporter's voice was bright and friendly, the voice people use on dogs and small children. She bent down in front of my son with the microphone already out.I was running.I didn't remember starting. My bag banged against my hip. Someone's shoulder hit mine. A mother pulling her daughter toward a car said *hey* as I pushed past her."Is it true your dad isn't really your dad?"Ethan stood frozen on the bottom step, his spelling test in one hand, staring down at the microphone like it was a snake."Ethan!"He turned his head at my voice.I reached him and pulled him behind me so hard he stumbled. I put my whole body between him and that came

"Do you like it?" Sophia asked. "I made the windows all different so everyone gets their own color."She held the drawing up higher, right in front of her father's face.Adrian didn't answer.He took the paper from her carefully, with both hands, the way he had held Ethan's rocket on my floor. He looked at the four people standing in a row in front of a house with forty windows.His thumb moved across the woman's face. Then the boy's."Daddy?""It's beautiful," he said. His voice came out rough. "It's the best house you've ever drawn.""Better than the cat house?""Much better than the cat house."Sophia beamed. Ethan, still on the rug, puffed out his chest. "I did the rocket," he said. "In the boy's hand. That's *Friday*.""I can see that." Adrian handed the drawing back to his daughter. "Can you two put it somewhere safe? I need to help Claire with something in the kitchen.""We already washed everything," I said.He looked at me.I went to the kitchen.***He followed me in and pul

"I'm not scared of it." It came out too fast. Even I could hear it. Denise didn't say anything. She waited, the way she had waited for me in the hospital cafeteria six years ago while Ethan was in surgery. "I'm just tired," I said. "It's a lot. The court, the press, the reporter at the gate. A test on my son because his father wants to get out of paying for him. Anybody would be upset." "Upset, sure." Denise turned her glass on the table. "But that's not upset, Claire. I've seen you upset. That was something else." I picked up my glass. Put it down again without drinking. "You went pale when I said it," she went on quietly. "The same way you went pale nine years ago." My head came up. "What?" "Three weeks before your wedding." Denise's eyes didn't leave mine. "You came to my place at two in the morning. You were soaked through. You sat on my couch and you shook for an hour and you wouldn't tell me anything. You just kept saying *I'm fine, I'm fine.*" She paused. "Three