Chapter 2 - The Picture on the Floor
When Daniel returned to the ballroom, the music had stopped.
The guests were whispering.
Some were pretending not to watch.
Vanessa stood near the dance floor, holding her champagne glass with both hands.
Margaret waited beside the table where Amy had been sitting.
“There was something else,” she said.
She held out a white envelope.
Daniel recognized Amy’s handwriting immediately.
His name was written across the front.
DANIEL.
His hands trembled as he opened it.
Inside was an ultrasound photograph.
At first, he did not understand.
Then he saw the printed words.
17 WEEKS, 4 DAYS.
The room disappeared.
The chandelier.
The guests.
The music.
Vanessa.
Everything vanished.
There was only the grainy black-and-white image in his hand.
A tiny life.
Their child.
His child.
Daniel unfolded the note behind it.
We’re going to be parents.
Life has been busy, but maybe this will remind us what all this work was supposed to be for.
His breath caught.
Then he saw a second message written beneath it.
The ink looked shakier.
As though Amy had added it after seeing him with Vanessa.
I wanted to build a family with you, Daniel.
But I will not let my child grow up watching their mother wait for a man who always chooses everything else first.
You can have your company.
You can have your parties.
You can have Vanessa.
I am choosing peace.
Daniel dropped into one of the empty ballroom chairs.
Margaret sat beside him.
“She’s pregnant,” he whispered.
“Yes.”
“She was going to tell me tonight.”
“Yes.”
His hands closed around the ultrasound photograph.
“I didn’t know.”
Margaret looked at her son for a long moment.
“No,” she said quietly. “You didn’t try to know.”
Vanessa took one step closer.
“Daniel, I had no idea Amy was pregnant.”
He looked up at her.
“You knew she was hurting.”
Vanessa’s expression tightened.
“That isn’t fair.”
“No,” Daniel said. “It isn’t.”
He remembered the messages.
Miss you already.
Wish we were still in Chicago.
She has no idea, does she?
He had allowed himself to believe that emotional betrayal did not count because he had not crossed a physical line.
But he had crossed it every time he let Vanessa become the person he called after midnight.
Every time he canceled on Amy but made time for another woman.
Every time he let Amy stand alone while he made someone else feel chosen.
“Leave,” Daniel said.
Vanessa blinked.
“What?”
“Leave the foundation. Leave my company. Leave this building.”
“You can’t fire me because your wife is upset.”
“No,” Daniel replied. “I can fire you because I have been weak enough to let you become part of something that destroyed my marriage.”
Vanessa’s face hardened.
“You’re blaming me because you can’t face yourself.”
May you like
Daniel looked down at the ultrasound again.
“For once,” he said, “I am facing myself.”
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