Chapter 9 - Lily's Empty Chair
Daniel broke the seal.
The letter had been written years before his father's death.
Daniel,
If this condition has been met, then somehow you and Elena found your way back to one another.
Do not mistake that for fate.
Fate is an excuse people use when they don't want to acknowledge choice.
If Elena accepted you again, it means both of you chose to build something new where something old failed.
Protect that choice.
There is one more thing you should know.
The trust Richard controlled was never intended for you.
It was intended for your children.
Daniel stopped reading.
His eyes moved toward Lily.
She sat at the table, eating strawberries and pretending not to listen.
He continued.
I established it when you married Elena because I believed you would eventually have a family.
If Richard preserved it, then at least one decent thing survived our mistakes.
Use it wisely.
And Daniel—
being a father is not about being present when a child is born.
It is about being present when they need you.
Do better than we did.
Dad.
Daniel lowered the letter.
For a long time, nobody spoke.
Then Lily said, "So... are you getting married?"
I laughed through tears.
Daniel looked at me.
"I believe there was an unanswered question."
I looked at the man I'd married once.
Then divorced.
Then hated.
Then understood.
Then learned again.
"Yes."
Lily screamed.
Daniel stood and kissed me.
"Yes?" he repeated.
"Yes."
Lily ran around the kitchen.
"I'm flower girl!"
"Apparently," I said.
"And Bunny too."
"Bunny cannot be flower girl."
"Flower bunny."
Daniel nodded seriously.
"I support this."
"Of course you do."
We planned a small wedding.
No magazines.
No business partners we barely knew.
Family.
Friends.
People who had earned a place in our second beginning.
My mother and I repaired our relationship slowly.
I didn't forgive her in one conversation.
She didn't ask me to.
She apologized to Daniel.
He surprised me by accepting.
"I understand why you hated me," he told her.
"I still had no right."
"No."
Then they hugged.
It wasn't perfect.
It was real.
Sophia sent flowers.
White roses.
No note except:
For Lily.
That made me cry.
The wedding was scheduled for October.
Lily chose her dress six months early.
She changed her mind nine times.
Daniel pretended every option was his favorite.
The morning of the ceremony, I woke strangely calm.
No fear.
No doubts.
Not because I believed Daniel could never hurt me again.
Anyone you love can hurt you.
I was calm because I knew I would never abandon myself again.
That was different.
At the venue, my mother helped with my dress.
"Beautiful," she whispered.
"Don't cry."
"I'm your mother."
"That's not an excuse."
"It's literally the best excuse."
Someone knocked.
My mother opened the door.
Daniel stood outside.
"You're not supposed to see her!" she snapped.
"I know."
"Then go away."
"It's Lily."
Everything inside me stopped.
"What?"
Daniel's face was pale.
"We can't find her."
I was moving before he finished.
"What do you mean?"
"She was with Rachel ten minutes ago."
"Where?"
"Bridal suite."
"She's not there."
My mother grabbed her phone.
Daniel said, "Security is checking exits."
I lifted my dress and ran.
Every nightmare I'd ever had arrived at once.
The school records.
Margaret.
Richard.
The anonymous messages.
"Lily!"
People turned.
Daniel ran beside me.
We checked bathrooms.
Conference rooms.
The garden.
Nothing.
Her chair in the bridal suite was empty.
Her flower basket lay on the floor.
Beside it was Bunny.
Lily never went anywhere without Bunny.
My knees nearly gave out.
Daniel caught me.
"We'll find her."
"She left Bunny."
"I know."
"Daniel—"
"We'll find her."
Security footage showed Lily walking down a hallway alone.
Then disappearing through a service door.
Nobody followed her.
That should have comforted me.
It didn't.
We reached the service corridor.
"Lily!"
Nothing.
Then Daniel saw something.
A white ribbon.
From her dress.
It lay near a staircase.
We ran down.
Another ribbon waited at the bottom.
Then another.
"She's leaving a trail," Daniel said.
Smart girl.
My smart girl.
The trail led outside.
Across a courtyard.
Toward a small garden chapel that hadn't been used for the ceremony.
The door was closed.
Daniel reached it first.
He stopped.
"What?"
He pointed.
A piece of paper was taped to the door.
In Lily's handwriting:
MOM + DAD ONLY.
I stared.
Daniel knocked.
"Lily?"
"Come in."
Relief almost dropped me to the ground.
We opened the door.
Lily stood inside.
Safe.
Perfectly fine.
Furious.
"Lily Carter!"
She jumped.
"Mom—"
I crossed the room and hugged her so tightly she squeaked.
"Ow."
"Do you have any idea what you just did?"
"I needed to talk to you!"
"You tell someone!"
"I told Bunny."
"Bunny cannot communicate with adults!"
Daniel turned away.
He was laughing.
I glared at him.
He stopped immediately.
Lily looked guilty.
"Sorry."
"Why are you here?"
She stared at the floor.
"Because I wanted to ask something before you get married."
My anger faded.
"What?"
She looked at Daniel.
"If you marry Mom, does that mean you're staying forever?"
Daniel crouched.
"It means I'm promising to."
"But you promised before."
Silence.
My heart broke.
She knew more than we'd realized.
Daniel didn't defend himself.
"Yes."
"And you left."
"Yes."
"How do I know you won't again?"
Daniel sat on the floor.
In his wedding suit.
Without caring.
"You don't."
Lily frowned.
"That's a bad answer."
"It's the truthful one."
He held out his hand.
She took it.
"I can't prove the rest of my life today. I can only prove today."
"And tomorrow?"
"I'll prove tomorrow tomorrow."
She thought about that.
"What if you and Mom fight?"
"We will."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Thanks."
He smiled.
"We'll probably fight a lot."
"Daniel."
"But leaving isn't how we're going to solve it."
Lily looked at me.
"Promise?"
I crouched beside them.
"We promise we'll talk. We promise we won't lie. And we promise none of our grown-up problems will ever be your fault."
She nodded.
Then she hugged both of us.
For several minutes, the wedding could wait.
Everything could wait.
Eventually, Lily whispered, "We're late."
"You think?"
"Sorry."
Daniel picked up one of the ribbons.
"Why did you leave these?"
"So you'd find me."
"That was clever."
"Do not praise her," I said.
"Right."
We walked back together.
At the entrance to the ceremony, music had already started.
Guests stood.
Lily grabbed her flower basket.
Then she looked toward the final row.
Her expression changed.
"Mom."
"What?"
"Who's that?"
I followed her gaze.
One chair sat empty.
But an envelope rested on it.
My name was written across the front.
No stamp.
No return address.
Daniel saw it.
We exchanged a look.
I picked it up.
Inside was a single photograph.
Seven years earlier.
Daniel and me leaving the courthouse after our divorce.
On the back were four words:
I SHOULD HAVE STOPPED YOU.
Underneath was a name.
Sophia Bennett.
I looked toward the doors.
May you like
They were slowly opening.
And a woman in emerald green was standing on the other side.
