Chapter 11: The Conversation That Decided Everything
Sienna came alone.
It was a Tuesday evening, four days after Vermont, six days after she'd first walked back through the door with the letter in her hand.
She knocked instead of using her key.
I noticed that.
I let her in.
She sat at the kitchen table — the same chair as before — and folded her hands in front of her.
She looked like she hadn't slept.
"My mother told me she came here," she said.
"She did."
"She shouldn't have."
"No."
Sienna looked at the table.
"I want to tell you something, and I need you to let me finish before you say anything."
I sat down across from her.
"Go ahead."
She took a breath.
"Derek and I were together for four months in college.
It ended because he wasn't ready for anything serious.
I moved on.
I met you, and I meant it — I meant all of it." She looked up.
"But we stayed in touch.
Not constantly.
A few times a year.
And when you told me about the job, I was scared, and I called him.
That night.
Before I packed the bag."
The kitchen was very quiet.
"What did he say?" I asked.
"He said I deserved better than starting over from scratch." She said it flatly, like she was reading from a document.
"He said I'd worked hard to build a good life and I shouldn't have to give it up because your company made a bad decision."
"And you agreed with him."
"I was scared.
And he was saying what I was already thinking." She pressed her hands flat on the table.
"That doesn't make it right.
I know that."
"Did he know about Gerald's estate?"
She went very still.
"Sienna."
"I mentioned it," she said.
"A long time ago.
When Gerald told me about his diagnosis, I told Derek.
I don't know why.
We were just talking."
"And when the letter came?"
Her eyes closed briefly.
"He told me to go back.
He said I needed to be there when you called the lawyers.
He said—" She stopped.
"He said what?"
"He said a wife who was present had more standing than one who had walked out." She opened her eyes.
"I knew it was wrong the moment he said it.
But I was already here."
I looked at her across the table.
This was the most honest she had been in six days.
Maybe longer.
"Do you love him?" I asked.
"No." No hesitation.
"I never did.
Not the way you mean."
"But you called him before you called me."
She didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
I stood up and walked to the window.
The yard was dark.
The porch light was on.
"I've spoken to a lawyer," I said.
I heard her chair shift.
"The estate is structured as separate property.
Gerald made sure of that.
Whatever happens between us — that doesn't change."
"Nathan, I'm not—"
"I know you're not here just for the money," I said.
"I believe that.
I think it's more complicated than that.
I think you love me in the way you know how to love someone.
I think your mother taught you that security was the same as love, and Derek told you what you wanted to hear when you were frightened, and somewhere in all of that you made choices that you can't fully take back."
I turned around.
"But I can't unknow what I know," I said.
"I can't unfeel the last six days.
And I can't build something on a foundation that cracked the first time it was tested."
Sienna's eyes were wet.
She didn't wipe them.
"So what happens now?" she voice was very quiet.
"I think you need to go home tonight.
I think we both need some time to be honest with ourselves about what this marriage actually was — not what we wanted it to be."
She stood up slowly.
She picked up her bag.
At the door, she stopped.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Not for the reasons my mother would want me to be sorry.
I'm sorry because you deserved better than what I gave you."
It was the truest thing she'd said since the night she packed the suitcase.
"I know," I said.
She left.
I stood in the kitchen for a long time after the door closed.
May you like
Then I went to the cabinet, took out one glass, and poured myself a drink.
Just one.
