Page 126 of The Husband Hour
“Come in.” She looked around for her wallet so she could tip the movers. “Are the guys out front?”
“What? No. I don’t think so,” Stephanie said, closing the door behind her.
“Oh. I thought…never mind.”
“I just wanted to thank you. I know you’ve been reading to Ethan again and…it means a lot to him. It can’t be easy for you and I want you to know that I understand that.”
Lauren nodded. “Have you decided when you’re going to tell him the truth?”
“No. I mean, before the film comes out, obviously.”
“I hate to say this,” Lauren said, “but I think there’s someone else you need to tell. Rory’s brother.”
“Emerson? Why?” She looked appalled.
“He’s Ethan’s family as much as I am. And Emerson has kids—Ethan’s first cousins.” Lauren had thought about all of this during the many hours she’d lain in bed at night grappling with everything.
Stephanie shook her head. “It’s too much. I can’t.”
“I’ve been going through all of my old boxes because of the move. Stuff I didn’t want to deal with four years ago. A lot of it’s Rory’s and I’ve found some family photos Emerson should have. I’m going to get in touch with him anyway, so I can tell him if you want me to.”
“Really? You would do that?”
She hadn’t thought about the offer before the words were out of her mouth, but as she spoke them, she knew they weren’t coming from a place of altruism; she wanted to say to Emerson, See? I told you I wasn’t the bad guy.
No, she wasn’t proud of this. But at least she recognized it.
She did, however, have one impulse that was pure, that came from a good place in her heart. She opened her nightstand drawer and pulled out Rory’s dog tags.
“I was thinking that when the time is right, you might want Ethan to have these,” she said, handing them to Stephanie.
Stephanie looked down at them in disbelief.
“Lauren,” she said. “I can’t take this from you.”
“I don’t feel like he’s my husband anymore. But he will always be Ethan’s father.”
Stephanie burst into tears. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“I don’t know,” Lauren said. “But you’ll always be my sister.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
The Williamsburg bar, with its wall-mounted bicycle, exposed brick, and painted tin ceilings, was too cute for Matt’s tastes. The craft-beer list was so rarefied Matt didn’t recognize a single brand. Basically, it was as far from Robert’s Place as you could get. He missed the shore. No, he missed Lauren.
It was still early—day-drinking early—so he and Craig got a seat at the bar. Craig ordered the beer for them both, something from the Netherlands. Matt checked his phone, a chronic and worsening compulsion as his texts to Lauren continued to go unanswered. He knew the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result, but he was too far gone. It was impossible to forget about someone when you saw her face on the screen every day, when you listened to audio of her voice dozens and dozens of times, until you heard her words in your dreams. Until her words and your own thoughts were intertwined.
“You ready for the meeting tomorrow?” Craig asked.
They were having breakfast with their sales agent. A major step toward distribution.
“I’m ready,” Matt said.
“To American Son,” Craig said. “Sure to be the most-talked-about doc of next year.”
Matt halfheartedly raised his bottle.
“Aren’t you happy with the cut?”
