Chapter 10 - THE FIRST DINNER WITHOUT LIES
Claire invited me to dinner fourteen months after the attack.
I stared at her message for nearly ten minutes.
Would you like to meet for dinner? Public place. Just us.
I typed three different responses.
Deleted them all.
Then finally sent:
Yes. Wherever you're comfortable.
We met at a small restaurant overlooking the harbor.
No private dining room.
No security entourage.
No expensive wine.
Just a table beside the window.
Claire arrived wearing a green dress.
Her hair had grown past her shoulders again.
She looked healthier.
Stronger.
And more beautiful than I remembered.
I stood.
"Claire."
She smiled faintly.
"Hi, Vincent."
We sat.
For several minutes, we talked about ordinary things.
Her work.
My business changes.
Theo's terrible attempts at cooking.
Then Claire grew serious.
"I asked you here because I want to understand something."
I nodded.
"Anything."
She looked directly at me.
"Do you still love me?"
My heart stopped.
"Yes."
She swallowed.
"Why?"
I stared.
"What?"
"Why do you love me?"
I looked down.
For years, I had answered that question with gifts.
Jewelry.
Vacations.
Expensive houses.
But Claire wasn't asking what I could buy.
She was asking whether I knew her.
I took a breath.
"Because you laugh when you're nervous."
Her eyes softened.
"Because you always read the last page of a mystery novel first, then pretend you haven't."
She almost smiled.
"Because you hate olives but keep ordering Greek salads."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"Because you remember the birthdays of people who clean our offices."
I swallowed.
"Because you once stayed up all night helping a neighbor find her missing dog."
Claire laughed through tears.
"And because you saw something good in me when I had stopped looking for it."
She wiped her face.
"Vincent."
I leaned forward.
"But I need you to know something."
She looked up.
"I don't love you because you forgave me. You haven't. And you don't owe me that."
I took a breath.
"I love you because you're Claire."
For a long moment, she said nothing.
Then she whispered, "I needed to hear that."
After dinner, we walked along the harbor.
The water reflected the city lights.
Claire stopped near a bench.
"I don't know whether I can trust you again."
I nodded.
"I understand."
"But I miss you."
My throat tightened.
"I miss you too."
She looked toward the water.
"I'm not ready to come home."
"I know."
"And I don't want to pretend everything is fixed."
"Neither do I."
She turned toward me.
"Would you be willing to go to counseling together?"
I stared.
"Yes."
Her eyes filled.
"Even if it doesn't save our marriage?"
I nodded.
"Even then."
She reached for my hand.
May you like
I held it gently.
And for the first time in more than a year, we walked together without pretending we knew where the road would lead.
