Chapter 7: The Option He Chose
Ethan's attorney called Grace at 4:47 that afternoon.
He chose to fight.
Grace told me over the phone, her voice carrying the same flat precision it always did.
"He's claiming the transfers were authorized gifts.
That you knew about them and approved each one verbally.
He says he has witnesses."
"What witnesses?"
"He hasn't named them yet.
He will in the filing." A pause.
"He's also filed a counter-claim alleging that you and Renata conspired to defame him at the wedding.
He's calling the folder fabricated."
"Lacey told me he might do that."
"He's also threatening to subpoena Lacey's messages and present them as evidence that she orchestrated the cake incident out of personal jealousy."
"Can he make that stick?"
"Not if Lacey cooperates with us.
Her testimony about the timeline — when he told her about Daniel, what he asked her to stay quiet about, the calls he made to her this morning — that's valuable." Grace's voice shifted slightly.
"How is she?"
"She hired her own attorney yesterday.
She said she'd cooperate with whatever we need."
"Good.
Tell her attorney to call me."
I was sitting in Mama's kitchen by then.
Mama was making tea she knew I wouldn't drink, moving quietly between the counter and the stove, giving me space and proximity at the same time.
"Grace," I said.
"How long does this take?"
"The annulment, if he contests it, could take several months.
The financial recovery — if we move for an emergency freeze on the Delaware account, which I'm doing tomorrow morning — that's faster.
We can potentially have the funds frozen within the week."
"And if he moves the money before then?"
"He'd be committing additional fraud.
Which would make the criminal referral significantly easier." A beat.
"I've already been in contact with a colleague who handles financial crimes.
We're prepared."
After I ended the call, Mama set a mug in front of me anyway.
"Drink it," she said.
"You haven't eaten since yesterday."
I wrapped my hands around the mug.
"He's going to drag it out."
"Let him drag it." She sat across from me.
"He's dragging himself."
I almost smiled.
Then my phone buzzed again.
Not Ethan this time.
Renata.
I answered.
"I heard he's fighting," she said.
"Yes."
"I expected that." Her voice was steady.
"I want you to know — I'm not going anywhere.
Whatever he files, whatever he claims about me, I have six years of records.
Every unanswered message.
Every missed support payment.
Every court delay his attorney caused.
I kept everything."
"Why?" I asked.
"Why did you keep all of it?"
A pause.
"Because I knew this day would come eventually.
I just didn't know it would be your wedding day." Something in her voice shifted.
"I'm sorry it happened the way it did.
That wasn't what I planned."
"What did you plan?"
"I was going to deliver the folder to you privately.
The week before the wedding.
But I couldn't get close enough — he had people around you constantly.
The bakery was the only access point I could find." She paused.
"The baker is my cousin.
She didn't know what was in the envelope.
She just knew to put it inside."
I thought about Lacey's face when the new cake arrived.
*Did Ethan approve it?* She hadn't known either.
She'd just been afraid.
"Renata," I said.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Yes."
"Did you love him?"
A long silence.
"I loved who I thought he was," she said finally.
"By the time I understood who he actually was, I had Daniel.
And Daniel is the best thing in my life." Her voice was quiet but certain.
"So no.
I don't think I ever loved Ethan.
I think I loved the idea of not being alone."
I understood that more than I wanted to admit.
"Thank you," I said.
"For coming."
"Thank you for walking toward the folder," she said.
"Some women don't."
After I hung up, Mama was watching me.
"She sounds like a good person," Mama said.
"She is," I said.
"She's been fighting this alone for six years."
Mama was quiet for a moment.
Then: "What about the little boy?"
I looked at my tea.
"Daniel."
"Yes."
"He deserves to know his father.
Whatever kind of man his father turns out to be." I set the mug down.
"That's between Renata and the courts now.
But I hope he gets what he's owed."
Mama nodded slowly.
Then the front door opened.
Lacey's voice came from the hallway.
"Is it okay if I come in?"
Mama and I looked at each other.
"Come in," Mama called.
Lacey appeared in the kitchen doorway.
She was carrying a paper bag.
She set it on the counter without a word and started taking out containers — soup, bread, something wrapped in foil.
"I didn't know what you'd want," she said, not turning around.
"So I got a few things."
Nobody spoke.
Then Mama stood up and went to help her unpack the bag.
I watched them for a moment.
May you like
My mother and my sister, moving around the small kitchen, not talking, just moving.
I picked up my tea and drank it.
