Instead, Lucas said:
“Dad.”
Everyone stopped.
Ethan turned.
Lucas stood beside me, tears dry on his face.
“I wrote you a letter.”
Ethan looked at the folded paper still inside the brown box.
“Not now.”
Lucas nodded.
“Okay.”
Something about the disappointment in his voice finally broke through Ethan’s anger.
He stared at our son.
“Lucas.”
But Lucas had already turned away.
We left the Ashford Estate at 8:42.
Twenty-three minutes after Lucas played the recording.
On the drive home, he said almost nothing.
Finally:
“Is Sophia still his wife?”
“Yes.”
“Even if she gave back the ring?”
“Yes.”
“That seems complicated.”
“It is.”
“Do you think she’ll divorce him?”
“I don’t know.”
He watched highway lights slide across the window.
“Would that be my fault?”
I nearly pulled the car over.
“No.”
“Because I played it.”
“Listen to me.”
I waited until he looked at me.
“The truth does not create the damage caused by the lie.”
He swallowed.
“But everybody was happy before.”
“They looked happy.”
“That’s different?”
“Very.”
He nodded slowly.
Then said:
“Grandma would’ve liked that.”
“What?”
“The part where Dad got handed papers.”
I laughed.
For the first time that night, really laughed.
“Your grandmother would have brought popcorn.”
Lucas smiled.
We drove home.
I thought the worst was over.
I was wrong.
At 11:36 p.m., someone knocked on my door.
Three hard knocks.
Lucas was asleep.
I checked the security camera.
Sophia stood on the porch.
Still wearing her wedding dress.
PART FIVE
The Bride at My Door
I opened the door halfway.
“What are you doing here?”
Sophia’s mascara had run.
Her hair was loose.
She had thrown a wool coat over her wedding gown.
