Chapter 6 - THE NIGHT DANIEL TOLD ME THE TRUTH
Two weeks later, Daniel invited me to dinner.
Not at a restaurant.
Not at the Carter mansion.
At a small apartment in Brooklyn.
He had moved there after leaving his family's estate.
When I arrived, he was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter.
A pot of pasta boiled on the stove.
I looked around.
“You cook?”
“Badly.”
I smiled.
“That seems to be a family tradition.”
Daniel laughed.
“Ryan burns toast.”
I stopped smiling.
He noticed.
“Sorry.”
“It's okay.”
We ate at a small wooden table.
For the first time, there were no lawyers.
No documents.
No relatives waiting to tell us what we owed.
Just dinner.
Afterward, Daniel told me about the shooting.
It happened four years earlier outside a warehouse in Queens.
Ryan had become involved with a group of men who used Carter shipping containers for illegal deliveries.
Daniel discovered the arrangement.
He confronted Ryan.
The argument escalated.
Then someone fired a gun.
Daniel pushed Ryan aside.
The bullet shattered bones in his leg and caused extensive nerve damage.
He spent months in surgery and rehabilitation.
“Why did you protect him?” I asked.
Daniel looked down.
“Because he was my little brother.”
I swallowed.
“And afterward?”
“He visited twice.”
My chest tightened.
“Twice?”
Daniel nodded.
“Mother said he couldn't bear seeing me injured.”
I stared.
Daniel smiled sadly.
“I believed her.”
I looked at his cane.
“Does it still hurt?”
“Every day.”
“I'm sorry.”
He shrugged.
“I've learned to live with it.”
I hesitated.
“Does it bother you when people stare?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Sometimes.”
Then he smiled faintly.
“But it bothers me more when they pretend not to notice.”
I laughed softly.
He looked surprised.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Emma.”
I shook my head.
“It's just... Ryan always made everything look perfect.”
Daniel nodded.
“And?”
“You don't.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Thank you?”
I smiled.
“I mean you're real.”
His expression softened.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Daniel said quietly:
“Emma, I need you to know something.”
My heart quickened.
“What?”
“I never wanted you as compensation for saving Ryan.”
I looked at him.
He continued.
“I wanted someone to choose me.”
His voice lowered.
“But not like this.”
I swallowed.
“Daniel.”
He shook his head gently.
“You don't owe me anything.”
Then he smiled.
“Not even another dinner.”
I looked at the empty plates.
And surprised myself.
“What if I want another dinner?”
Daniel went still.
Then he smiled.
May you like
A real smile.
“Then I'd better learn to cook.”
