Chapter 8 - Lauren's Last Lie
Lauren called Grace at 3:04 a.m.
Grace almost didn't answer.
Then she recognized the number from the investigation file.
"Lauren?"
Breathing.
Then: "I need help."
Grace sat up.
"Where are you?"
"I can't tell you."
"Then why call?"
"Because Vale knows I'm testifying."
Grace switched on the lamp.
"Police are looking for you."
"I don't trust them."
"You trusted Vale."
"I was stupid."
Grace's voice turned cold.
"So was my husband."
Lauren went silent.
"I didn't make him sleep with me."
"No."
"I didn't make him hit you."
"No."
Grace's calm unsettled her.
"Then why aren't you screaming?"
"Because I've spent enough energy on you."
Lauren began crying.
"I never hated you."
Grace almost laughed.
"You entered my marriage intentionally."
"I entered Ethan's life intentionally. You were supposed to be irrelevant."
There it was.
Grace's chest tightened.
Lauren explained.
Vale had recruited her after discovering Ethan was married to Jonathan Mercer's daughter.
Her job was simple: get close to Ethan, gain access to Walker Development, and compromise him.
"But he fell for you," Grace said.
Lauren hesitated.
"He fell for who I pretended to be."
"And you?"
"I thought I loved him."
Grace closed her eyes.
"What do you want from me?"
"I have the original files proving Vale ordered everything. Offshore transfers, fabricated leases, recordings."
"Give them to prosecutors."
"I need protection."
Grace looked toward the hallway.
Daniel was already awake.
Her brothers had learned that when Grace answered a telephone at three in the morning, trouble usually followed.
"Where are you?"
An hour later, federal agents surrounded a motel outside Greensboro.
Lauren surrendered.
The evidence destroyed Vale's defense.
It also revealed something unexpected.
Ethan had been targeted precisely because Vale considered him vain enough to manipulate.
Emails between Vale and Lauren described him brutally.
He wants admiration more than he wants truth. Give him both and he'll sign anything.
When Ethan read that sentence, he sat quietly.
Grace expected anger.
Instead he said, "He wasn't wrong."
"You don't have to accept everything your enemy says about you."
"No. But I should recognize the parts that are true."
Grace studied him.
"You've changed."
"I'm trying."
Vale was convicted months later on fraud, conspiracy, obstruction, and related financial crimes.
Lauren received a reduced sentence after cooperating.
Before sentencing, she requested permission to write Grace a letter.
Grace almost threw it away.
Instead she read it.
I thought women like you were weak because you were kind. I mistook silence for stupidity and patience for fear. I was wrong. I hurt you because I wanted a life I thought you didn't deserve. I know an apology doesn't repair that. I'm sorry anyway.
Grace folded the letter.
Then put it in a drawer.
Forgiveness, she had learned, did not require forgetting.
At thirty-seven weeks, Grace's water broke while arguing with Daniel about nursery curtains.
"I told you beige was depressing," she gasped.
Daniel stared at the puddle.
"Is that—"
"Yes."
"Oh, God."
"Daniel."
"I've negotiated billion-dollar mergers."
"Wonderful."
"I don't know what to do."
"Get the hospital bag."
He grabbed a decorative pillow.
Grace stared at him.
"That's a pillow."
"I know."
"Why are you holding it?"
"I don't know!"
Grace began laughing.
Within twenty minutes, all three Mercer brothers were racing to the hospital in separate cars despite Grace specifically telling them not to.
Ethan met them there.
This time Grace asked him to come into the delivery room.
Labor lasted fourteen hours.
Ethan stayed near her shoulder.
He never touched her without asking.
At 2:41 a.m., their daughter entered the world screaming.
Grace cried.
Ethan cried.
The doctor placed the baby on Grace's chest.
She was tiny and furious, with dark hair plastered against her head.
"Hi," Grace whispered. "Hi, sweetheart."
Ethan stared as though the universe had just performed a miracle exclusively for him.
"She's beautiful."
Grace looked at him.
"Her name is Evelyn."
His face crumpled.
Grace's grandmother.
The woman whose jewelry had quietly saved his company years ago.
"Evelyn Grace Walker," Grace said.
Ethan touched one tiny foot.
"Hi, Evie."
Outside the room, three grown men argued over who would be her favorite uncle.
Michael claimed financial literacy.
Luke promised motorcycles.
Daniel threatened to remove Luke from the will.
Grace listened and smiled.
For several weeks, life became diapers, bottles, sleep deprivation, and the strange happiness of watching a newborn discover light.
Ethan rented a townhouse nearby.
He came when invited.
He left when asked.
One night, Evelyn would not stop crying.
Grace had slept ninety minutes in two days.
She called Ethan.
Not Daniel.
Not Michael.
Not Luke.
Ethan.
He arrived ten minutes later.
"Give her to me."
Grace hesitated.
Then handed over their daughter.
Ethan walked slowly around the kitchen, humming terribly off-key.
Evelyn stopped crying.
Grace stared.
"How?"
He whispered, "She appreciates talent."
Grace laughed.
"She's probably in shock."
For the next hour, Ethan held the baby while Grace slept on the couch.
When she woke, she found a blanket over her.
Ethan was sitting across the room with Evelyn asleep against his chest.
He looked at Grace.
Neither spoke.
Something had changed.
Not erased.
Not repaired.
Changed.
Then Grace noticed the date on her phone.
Exactly one year had passed since their anniversary.
One year since the slap.
One year since everything ended.
May you like
And perhaps, she realized, one year since something else had finally begun.
Her own life.
