Jessica is recovering from surgery and caring for a newborn. Do not arrive uninvited. She will meet you tomorrow at noon at my office if she chooses.
Luca replied almost immediately.
This is between husband and wife.
Phoebe typed back.
Then behaving like a husband would be a useful place to begin.
I stared at her.
“That was not legal language.”
“No.”
“Was that professional?”
“Debatable.”
Evelyn smiled.
“I like you more every hour.”
Phoebe put my phone on the table.
“He may still come.”
“Would he?”
“Yes.”
“What do we do?”
“We don’t panic.”
“I’m not panicking.”
“You’re holding a baby monitor like you’re preparing to negotiate a hostage release.”
I looked down.
She was right.
I put it on the counter.
Ten minutes passed.
Then twenty.
No car appeared.
Instead, my phone rang.
Luca again.
I let it ring once.
Twice.
Then answered.
“Hi.”
His voice was quieter than before.
“I’m at a hotel.”
Relief came so quickly I almost felt guilty.
“Okay.”
“Phoebe made it clear I shouldn’t come over.”
“She was right.”
“I know.”
That answer surprised me.
I waited.
“I handled this badly,” Luca said.
I looked toward Phoebe.
She shook her head slightly.
Listen.
Don’t fill silence.
I had taught entire executive teams that technique.
It was much harder with someone I had loved.
Luca continued.
“I should never have changed the locks without telling you.”
“No.”
“I should never have gone to Miami.”
“No.”
“I should’ve been there when you brought Lily home.”
My throat tightened.
That was the first time he had said her name.
Not the baby.
Lily.
I sat down.
“Why weren’t you?”
Silence.
Then he said, “Because I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“You.”
I almost laughed.
“Me?”
“Not like that.”
“Then like what?”
He breathed slowly.
“Of what was going to happen after she was born.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I know.”
“Then explain.”
Another pause.
“I found your father’s letter.”
There it was.
No denial.
No confusion.
“Where is it?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“I’m not telling you over the phone.”
My temper flared.
“It was addressed to me.”
“I know.”
“You opened a letter my dead father wrote to me.”
“Yes.”
There was no attempt to soften it.
Oddly, that hurt less than excuses would have.
