Chapter 14 - THE LAST THING I LET DANIEL TAKE WITH HIM
Daniel asked to speak to me alone.
I said no.
Then amended it.
“Richard can wait outside. Lauren stays.”
Daniel laughed softly.
“Still need supervision?”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“I need witnesses to agreements with you.”
That hurt.
Good.
We met once more in the conference room after the settlement documents were finalized.
Daniel handed me a small envelope.
Inside was an old secondary bank card.
Expired.
My name.
His wallet had apparently carried it for years.
“I forgot I had it.”
I looked at him.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
He surprised me.
“I think I kept it because I liked what it represented.”
“What?”
“Us.”
I almost laughed.
“A debit card?”
“Access.”
The word landed.
Daniel continued.
“You made my life feel bigger. Better restaurants. Better rooms. Lenders answered faster. Your father knew people. Your mother’s clients introduced us to people. You made everything feel possible.”
“And you decided that meant it was yours.”
“Eventually.”
Honest.
Ugly.
Useful.
I slid the expired card back toward him.
“Cut it.”
He looked at me.
“What?”
“Cut it.”
Lauren said nothing.
Daniel took scissors from the credenza.
Cut through the chip.
Then through my printed name.
Ridiculous symbolism.
I knew that.
Still, I wanted it.
He put the pieces on the table.
“Happy?”
“No.”
That answer seemed to release something.
Daniel leaned back.
“I really did love you.”
“I know.”
His eyes lifted.
That surprised him more than anger would have.
“I loved you too.”
“Then how did we get here?”
I thought about it.
“Every time you were afraid of losing something, you decided access mattered more than permission.”
He looked away.
“And me?”
I continued.
“Every time I was afraid conflict would break us, I let you.”
There was no victory in that sentence.
Only history.
Daniel asked:
“Do you hate me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because hate would still make you central.”
He almost smiled.
Then didn’t.
When the meeting ended, Richard stood in the hallway.
He did not ask what Daniel said.
He waited.
I walked beside him toward the elevator.
At the doors, he asked:
“Want company?”
That question was small.
A year earlier I would not have noticed it.
“Yeah.”
He came with me.
May you like
Not because I needed protection.
Because I chose company.
