Chapter 2 - The Room With No Window
I kept my voice steady because Noah was watching my face.
“What happened in the laundry room, buddy?”
His fingers twisted the satin edge of my tie.
“She shuts the door.”
Rachel went still beside us.
I wanted to ask ten questions at once. How often? For how long? When? Why hadn’t he told me?
Instead, I swallowed.
“What happens after that?”
“I wait.”
“For what?”
“For being good.”
The hallway seemed to tilt.
Our laundry room sat beside the garage. No window. A washing machine that shook hard during the spin cycle. A door with a little brass hook mounted high on the outside.
I had installed that hook myself to keep Noah away from the cleaning supplies.
“When did that happen?”
He thought about it.
“When you did the airplane.”
My business trip to Denver. Three weeks earlier.
“Was there another time?”
His eyes dropped.
“When I spilled the juice.”
Rachel pressed a fist against her mouth.
I rested my forehead against Noah’s.
“Listen to me. You never have to stay somewhere scary to make me love you. Never.”
“Even when I’m bad?”
“Even when you make a mess. Even when you’re angry. Every day.”
The ballroom doors opened.
Claire appeared with her mother, Vivian, and our wedding planner.
“Oh, thank God,” Claire said. “He’s fine.”
Noah’s whole body tightened.
I stood, holding him.
“Stay back.”
Claire’s smile disappeared.
“Excuse me?”
“We’re leaving.”
Vivian glanced toward the guests gathering behind the doors.
“Daniel, don’t make a permanent decision over an accident.”
“What happened in our laundry room?”
Claire looked at Noah.
That look answered something before her mouth did.
“Seriously?” she said. “He’s been telling stories again?”
Rachel moved between us.
“Don’t speak to him.”
Claire ignored her.
“He goes in there himself. He likes hiding.”
Noah buried his face against my neck.
From behind the wedding planner, someone spoke.
“That isn’t what I saw.”
Our photographer, Ben, stood holding his camera.
May you like
He looked sick.
“I thought you should know,” he said. “I was recording when she picked up the cake.”
