“Did it?”
“Sometimes.”
Margaret said nothing.
“Your children look at you differently.”
“Lauren loved you.”
“I know.”
“That should have mattered.”
“It did.”
“Not enough.”
“No.”
Charles lowered his head.
“I thought if I could survive one more year—”
“You’d fix it.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve thought that for how many years?”
“Eleven.”
Margaret felt sad despite herself.
“Charles.”
“I know.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I don’t think you do.”
He looked up.
“If you had told Lauren you were finished, she might have grieved.”
“She would have seen me fail.”
“Yes.”
He flinched.
Margaret continued:
“Instead, now she sees you lie.”
Charles looked away.
That landed.
He stood.
“What happens legally?”
“My lawyers will handle the document issues.”
“Are you going after me?”
“That depends what ‘going after’ means.”
“Police.”
Margaret took time.
“The copied signature belongs to Nathan.”
“Yes.”
“He decides whether he reports that aspect.”
“And you?”
“I’m not trying to send my son’s father-in-law to prison.”
Relief appeared.
She continued:
“I am also not going to hide evidence to prevent it.”
Relief vanished.
“Fair.”
Charles walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Did you really spend two hundred thousand on that wedding?”
“More.”
He laughed softly.
“Christ.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Margaret stared.
“Because they loved each other.”
Charles nodded.
Then left.
Lauren and Daniel separated immediately.
Not divorced.
Separated.
Lauren moved into her parents’ smaller home.
Daniel remained in the townhouse.
For three weeks they communicated mostly through attorneys and one marriage counselor.
Margaret refused updates unless Daniel offered them.
He often did.
She listened.
Did not decide.
That became harder than writing checks.
Lauren apologized to Margaret again one month after the wedding.
Privately.
At Margaret’s house.
No audience.
No diamonds.
No white dress.
Jeans and a gray sweater.
Margaret opened the door.
Lauren looked nervous.
“Can I come in?”
“You’re already here.”
That almost produced a smile.
They sat in the kitchen.
Lauren noticed the wedding photograph Daniel had sent from the ceremony.
Margaret had not removed it.
“You kept that.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It happened.”
Lauren looked at her.
Margaret continued:
“I don’t reorganize history based on what happens later.”
Lauren nodded slowly.
“I started anger management.”
Margaret raised an eyebrow.
“That sounds official.”
“My lawyer suggested it.”
“Less impressive.”
Lauren smiled faintly.
“Then I kept going after she stopped suggesting.”
“Better.”