Chapter 17 - The Apartment Above the Bakery
Marisol knew a woman who rented furnished apartments above a bakery in Queens.
I took one for two weeks.
Not because the engagement was over.
Because I needed somewhere I could hear my own thoughts without seeing Alexander’s name on the towels.
The room was small.
The windows rattled.
At five each morning, the building smelled of bread.
I slept better there than I expected.
That frightened me.
Then I realized exhaustion was not a verdict on love.
Sometimes a person simply needed a door she could close herself.
Alexander did not arrive.
He sent one message.
I understand you need space. I’m available when you want to talk.
No flowers.
No car waiting outside.
No announcement that he would prove how sorry he was by purchasing something enormous.
I read the message twice.
Then I put the phone down.
At the studio, the children noticed I was teaching seated portions of class.
They adapted faster than the adults.
Ruby brought me a cushion.
Mateo asked whether teachers got homework from doctors.
“Yes,” I said.
“Did you do yours?”
Marisol laughed from the doorway.
“Excellent question.”
I gave her a look.
She ignored it.
That afternoon, Camille reviewed my independent finances with me.
The original compensation had been held separately.
I had not spent it to maintain the appearance of being Alexander’s fiancée.
Some expenses had been addressed under the original arrangement.
The remaining money was mine under the agreement.
I felt uncomfortable hearing that.
“Would you feel better if we called it nothing?” Camille asked.
I looked at her.
“No.”
“Then don’t let embarrassment make you pretend you didn’t perform work, accept risk, and negotiate compensation.”
“I don’t want him to think I stayed for it.”
“Has he said that?”
“No.”
“Then whose accusation are you answering?”
I looked down.
The entire city’s, apparently.
We discussed a contribution to the studio’s operating reserve.
Not all the money.
Not an impulsive donation made to prove purity.
A considered amount.
A budget.
Independent oversight.
The school would not depend on my romantic relationship to survive its next difficult month.
That mattered more than a dramatic refusal of wealth.
Alexander’s counsel supplied revised foundation documents.
The promotional schedule had been removed.
The funding commitment would be governed through independent procedures.
My participation in public events would require separate agreement.
The studio’s artistic direction remained mine.
Camille reviewed every provision.
I cried when she told me the revisions were meaningful.
Not because Alexander had bought forgiveness.
Because he had agreed to give up authority.
That evening, he asked whether I would meet him for dinner.
I chose a neighborhood restaurant.
He arrived alone.
No Thomas at the table.
No private room.
He looked tired.
So did I.
For a few minutes, we spoke about ordinary things.
Then he put down his fork.
“I made an offer concerning the archive without your consent.”
“Yes.”
“I thought preventing harm mattered more than asking how you wanted it prevented.”
I waited.
“It didn’t.”
The apology was specific.
It had no convenient ending where I was expected to reassure him.
“Did you withdraw the offer?” I asked.
“Yes. Through counsel. The standstill discussion is separate and can continue only with Camille involved.”
I nodded.
He looked at my ring.
I still wore it.
“You haven’t taken it off.”
“I’m angry, Alexander. I’m not performing a breakup.”
He laughed once.
The sound loosened the air between us.
Then his eyes filled.
“I’m not very good at being afraid without becoming useful.”
I reached across the table.
“Then practice being afraid and staying beside me.”
His hand closed around mine.
We did not go home together that night.
He walked me to the bakery.
At the door, he asked permission to kiss me.
I said yes.
It was not a grand reconciliation.
It was better.
A choice made after both of us understood the question.
The following morning, Camille called.
Victoria Sterling had returned to New York.
May you like
She wanted to speak.
And she had documents concerning Vivienne.
