Chapter 6: The Offer He Shouldn't Have Made
The family attorney, a compact man named Gerald Foss, arrived forty minutes later.
He shook hands with Richard and Eleanor, nodded to me, and did not acknowledge Marcus or Vivian except to ask them both to remain available.
Marcus waited until Gerald had stepped away with Richard before crossing the lobby to where I was sitting.
I had found a chair near the window.
A hotel staff member had brought me water without being asked.
I was holding the glass with both hands.
Marcus sat down across from me.
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, the way he used to sit when he was about to say something he thought was important.
"I need you to hear me out," he said.
"I'm sitting here," I said.
"What happened today — the documents, the trust — I didn't know the full extent of what Vivian had done.
I want you to know that."
"You knew enough," I said.
"I knew I wanted to protect the business assets in a divorce.
I didn't know she had forged signatures.
I didn't know about the Oakmont transfer." He looked at his hands.
"She went further than I authorized."
"You authorized removing me from the trust."
He didn't deny it.
"I thought it was a legal option.
I didn't think about what it meant for you.
I wasn't thinking clearly."
"You weren't thinking about me at all," I said.
"That's different from not thinking clearly."
He was quiet.
"What do you want, Marcus?"
He looked up.
"I want to fix this.
I know that sounds hollow right now.
But I'm asking you — before this goes to attorneys and courts and becomes something we can't come back from — I'm asking you to let me fix it."
"Fix what, specifically."
"The trust documents.
I'll instruct Gerald to reverse everything.
Your name stays in.
The baby's name stays in.
The Oakmont transfer gets unwound.
All of it."
"Your mother already said she'd handle the trust."
"I know.
But I'm asking you to let me be the one to do it.
To make it right directly." He met my eyes.
"And I'm asking you to consider — before you make any decisions about us — whether we can try again.
With real help this time.
Counseling.
Whatever you need."
I looked at him for a long moment.
This was the version of Marcus I had fallen in love with.
The one who sat close and spoke quietly and made things sound reasonable.
The one who knew exactly how to frame a request so it felt like an offer.
"You told me to get an Uber," I said.
"I know."
"While she was standing next to you.
After she hjt me."
"I know, Nora.
I'm not trying to excuse that."
"And the woman in Chicago," I said.
His expression shifted.
"My mother told you."
"Your mother didn't tell me anything.
You just did."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"How many times?" I asked.
"Nora—"
"How many times did you do this?
Not Vivian specifically.
How many times, across our marriage, was there someone else?"
The silence stretched long enough to be its own answer.
"I need you to leave me alone now," I said.
"Nora, please—"
"Marcus." I set the water glass down on the side table.
"I'm seven months pregnant.
I've been hjt in a public place.
I've just learned that you were systematically removing my legal protections before telling me our marriage was over.
And you've now confirmed there were other women before Vivian." I looked at him steadily.
"I'm not making any decisions today.
But I am done listening to you today.
Please go sit somewhere else."
He stood.
For a moment he looked like he might say something more.
Then he looked at my face and didn't.
He walked back across the lobby and sat down in a chair near the window on the far side.
He didn't look at Vivian.
She didn't look at him.
Gerald Foss reappeared and asked if I had a personal attorney.
"Not yet," I said.
"Eleanor would like to recommend one," he said.
"Someone independent of the family.
She thought you might want your own representation."
"Yes," I said.
"I would."
He handed me a card.
The name on it was a woman's name, which felt right.
I put the card in my coat pocket and looked out the window at the VIP loading zone where Eleanor's car was still parked.
The driver was leaning against the hood, reading something on his phone, unbothered by all of it.
My phone buzzed.
A text from my sister, Dana.
*How did the meeting go?*
I stared at the message for a long time.
Then I typed: *Can you come to the Oakmont?
I'll explain when you get here.
Bring overnight things.
I don't think I should be alone tonight.*
Three dots appeared immediately.
*On my way.*
I put the phone face-down on my knee and pressed my hand against my stomach.
"Your aunt is coming," I said quietly.
"It's going to be okay."
I wasn't certain of that yet.
But I needed to say it.
And she needed to hear it, even if she was too small to understand.
Across the lobby, I heard Vivian's voice rise suddenly — sharp, directed at Gerald Foss.
"I want to know what I'm being accused of before I say another word."
May you like
Gerald's response was too quiet to hear.
Whatever he said, Vivian sat back down.
