Chapter 13 - The Clause Nobody Expected
Grace called immediately.
“What did you find?”
“A letter.”
“Another one?”
“This wasn’t addressed to you.”
“To whom?”
“Ethan.”
Grace went still.
Samuel Hawthorne had written Ethan a letter six years before Grace’s grandfather died.
Adrian brought it the next morning.
The envelope remained sealed.
Grace stared at Ethan’s name.
“You opened it?”
“No.”
“Why give it to me?”
“Because it was stored with your trust documents.”
Grace shook her head.
“It belongs to Ethan.”
She called him.
He arrived an hour later.
Grace handed him the envelope.
Ethan recognized Samuel’s handwriting.
His hands shook.
He opened it.
Ethan,
If you marry my granddaughter, understand that loving Grace will never entitle you to what belongs to her.
Grace watched his face.
Samuel wrote that Richard had repeatedly asked questions about the trust.
He warned Ethan that one day his father might force him to choose between inheritance and integrity.
Then came the final paragraph.
If that day comes, I hope you disappoint him.
Ethan laughed through tears.
“I did.”
Grace shook her head.
“Eventually.”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
That distinction mattered.
Samuel had not predicted Ethan’s affair.
He had not secretly arranged their marriage.
He simply saw Richard clearly.
Grace felt another knot loosen.
Ethan folded the letter.
“I’m taking the Boston job.”
Grace nodded.
“When?”
“Three weeks.”
They discussed custody arrangements.
Ethan proposed traveling back every weekend rather than moving Samuel.
Grace agreed.
Everything sounded mature.
Reasonable.
Painful.
At the door, Ethan stopped.
“I need to say something once.”
Grace waited.
“I still love you.”
Her breath caught.
“I’m not asking you to answer.”
“Ethan.”
“I know.”
He smiled sadly.
“You told me not to say that.”
She almost laughed.
He continued.
“I destroyed your trust. I don’t get to demand a timeline for rebuilding it.”
“No.”
“I also don’t want to spend the rest of my life pretending I don’t want you back.”
Grace looked at him.
“Wanting isn’t enough.”
“I know.”
“Love wasn’t enough.”
“I know that too.”
She swallowed.
“What if I never can?”
“Then I’ll still become a better father.”
That answer frightened her more than any grand declaration could have.
Because she believed him.
He left.
Three weeks passed quickly.
On Ethan’s final night before Boston, Grace invited him to dinner.
Not romantic.
At least she told herself that.
Samuel slept upstairs.
They ate pasta.
Ethan washed dishes.
Grace watched him.
“You never washed dishes when we were married.”
“I was an idiot.”
“That seems dramatic.”
“I had a dishwasher and still somehow employed another human being to load it.”
Grace laughed.
He looked at her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
“I miss this,” he said.
Grace’s smile faded.
“So do I.”
He set down the towel.
She hated how vulnerable his face looked.
“I’m scared,” she admitted.
“Of me?”
“Of becoming the woman who accepts something she shouldn’t.”
Ethan nodded slowly.
“Then don’t accept it.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“Don’t accept what I did.”
He stepped closer but stopped several feet away.
“Forgiving me doesn’t have to mean deciding it was okay.”
Grace’s eyes filled.
“And if I can’t forgive you?”
“Then don’t.”
His voice broke.
“I want your forgiveness. I don’t want it if you have to betray yourself to give it.”
Grace cried.
Ethan did not touch her.
That was when she crossed the room.
She hugged him.
Nothing more.
No kiss.
No promise.
Just two people grieving the marriage they had destroyed and wondering whether something different could ever grow in its place.
The next morning Ethan left for Boston.
For two months, they lived separate lives.
Then Grace received a call.
Not from Ethan.
From his new employer.
There had been an accident.
Grace stood so quickly her chair fell.
“What happened?”
May you like
The voice on the phone continued.
And Grace stopped breathing.
