Chapter 6: What She Came to Offer
Vivienne had changed out of her wedding dress.
She stood on the pavement in a pale grey coat, her hair still pinned from the ceremony, a small leather bag over one shoulder.
She looked composed.
She looked like a woman who had made a decision on the drive over and intended to hold to it.
Daniel came out of the café alone.
"You changed quickly," he said.
"I keep a bag in the car.
Old habit." She glanced past him at the window, where Ruth's shape was just visible in the corner booth.
"I'd like to speak to you without an audience."
"Say what you need to say."
Vivienne looked at him steadily.
"I know how this looks.
I know what you found on that page.
And I know that right now you are putting together a version of events that makes me the villain of your life." She paused.
"I'm asking you not to do that before you've heard me."
"I'm listening."
"Your father came to me four years ago because he was frightened.
Not of dying — he'd made his peace with that.
He was frightened of what would happen to you after he was gone.
He had made choices he couldn't undo and he knew it.
He wanted someone near you who understood the full picture."
"The full picture being that he had forged my mother's signature and removed her from my life."
Vivienne didn't flinch.
"Yes."
"And you agreed to that.
You agreed to be near me, knowing all of it."
"I agreed to meet you.
What happened after that was not arranged." Her voice was firm.
"I fell in love with you, Daniel.
That was not part of any plan."
"But you never told me."
"No."
"For four years."
"Yes."
He looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because every time I came close to it, I thought about what it would do to you.
I told myself I would find the right moment.
I told myself you were happy and that the truth would only—" She stopped.
"I told myself a lot of things."
"The property," Daniel said.
"The one in my mother's document.
It's in your family trust."
Something moved across her face.
Not guilt exactly.
More like the expression of someone who has been carrying a weight for so long they have forgotten what it feels like to put it down.
"My father handled that transfer," she said.
"He was the solicitor.
Your father wanted the asset moved somewhere it couldn't be traced back to him directly.
My father used the family trust as the vehicle." She met his eyes.
"I found out about it two years ago, when my father d*ed and I went through his files.
I didn't know before that."
"Can you prove that?"
"I have his personal records.
Dated correspondence.
Yes, I can prove it."
Daniel was quiet for a moment.
A bus went past on the main road.
Someone laughed loudly from a pub doorway further down the street.
"What do you want, Vivienne?"
"I want the chance to fix what I should have told you myself." She reached into her bag and produced a manila envelope.
Thicker than Ruth's.
"Everything I have.
My father's files.
The correspondence.
The original deed.
A statement I had prepared last month by a property solicitor explaining the chain of transfer." She held it out.
"It's yours.
I'm not asking for anything in return.
I'm not asking you to forgive me today.
I'm asking you to have the full picture before you decide anything."
He looked at the envelope.
"Why did you prepare that statement last month?"
She held his gaze.
"Because I had decided to tell you.
Before the wedding.
I was going to tell you the night before." She paused.
"And then I didn't."
"Why not?"
Her voice, for the first time, lost its steadiness.
"Because I was afraid you'd look at me exactly the way you're looking at me right now."
He took the envelope.
She waited.
"I need time," he said.
"I know."
"I don't know what this means for us."
"I know that too."
He turned to go back inside.
Then stopped.
"The property," he said.
"Is it worth anything?"
"At current market value?" Vivienne said quietly.
"Just over two million."
He went back inside without another word.
May you like
She stood on the pavement for a long moment.
Then she walked back to her car alone.
