Chapter 2 - What Jordan Remembered
Alexander closed the study door.
“Tell me exactly what he said.”
Annie remained standing.
Alexander pointed toward a chair.
“Sit.”
“I'd rather stand.”
“Why?”
“Because you're angry.”
“I'm not angry.”
“You broke a door thirty minutes ago.”
Alexander looked at her.
“Fair.”
He removed his jacket and placed it across the desk.
“Tell me.”
Annie took a breath.
“Jordan found me cleaning your wife's bedroom.”
“You were specifically told that room was private.”
“I know.”
“Then why were you there?”
“I heard crying.”
Alexander stopped.
“Jordan was inside?”
Annie nodded.
“He was sitting in the closet.”
“What was he doing there?”
“Holding one of Lauren's sweaters.”
Alexander's eyes dropped.
“He said it still smelled like her.”
Silence.
“I asked whether he wanted me to call you.”
“What did he say?”
Annie hesitated.
“Tell me.”
“He said, ‘Daddy doesn't like Mommy anymore.’”
Alexander went completely still.
“That is not true.”
“I know.”
“Why would he say that?”
“Because nobody talks about her.”
Alexander looked away.
Annie continued carefully.
“Her photographs disappeared downstairs.”
“I moved them.”
“Her clothes are locked away.”
“I couldn't look at them.”
“The boys don't know that.”
Alexander turned back.
“They watched their mother die.”
“And then they watched their father erase every visible reminder of her.”
The words landed hard.
Alexander's voice cooled.
“You've worked here six days.”
“Yes.”
“You don't know my family.”
“No.”
“Then don't pretend you understand what happened to us.”
“I don't.”
Annie's eyes didn't leave his.
“But I understand five-year-olds.”
Alexander laughed without humor.
“Based on what qualification?”
“Being around children who didn't have anyone listening.”
That answer surprised him.
Annie continued.
“Jordan remembers the crash.”
Alexander's face tightened.
“He shouldn't.”
“He does.”
“What exactly?”
“Rain. Glass. His brother screaming. His mother not answering.”
Alexander's hand closed around the desk.
“And afterward?”
“He remembers you.”
Alexander looked up.
“What about me?”
Annie hesitated.
“You were outside the hospital room.”
Alexander remembered.
Blood on his shirt.
A detective asking questions.
Lauren in surgery.
Two terrified boys crying for him.
“I was handling everything.”
“To Jordan, you left.”
Alexander's voice sharpened.
“My wife was dying.”
“I know.”
“You don't know.”
Annie fell silent.
Alexander paced toward the window.
“I was twenty feet away while surgeons tried to save her life. Police wanted statements. Doctors needed authorization. My sons were safe.”
Annie spoke softly.
“They didn't feel safe.”
Alexander turned.
“What was I supposed to do?”
“I don't know.”
“Exactly.”
“But neither do they.”
That silenced him.
Annie stepped closer.
“They don't blame you for the accident.”
“Then what are they afraid to tell me?”
Annie's expression changed.
“Justin thinks Lauren died because of him.”
Alexander stared at her.
“What?”
“He remembers asking her to turn around.”
Alexander's face drained.
“Turn around?”
“His stuffed dinosaur fell onto the floor.”
Alexander remembered that toy.
A green dinosaur named Captain.
“Lauren turned to reach for it,” Annie said. “Then the truck crossed the median.”
“No.”
“Justin thinks—”
“No.”
Alexander's voice cracked.
“That had nothing to do with it.”
“He doesn't know that.”
“He was four.”
“He's five now, and he's carried it for fourteen months.”
Alexander grabbed the back of the chair.
“Why didn't the therapists know?”
“Maybe he didn't tell them.”
“Why would he tell you?”
Annie looked toward the ceiling, toward the room where the boys had slept.
“Because I didn't ask him to stop crying.”
Alexander said nothing.
“He started screaming when Jordan found Lauren's sweater. I didn't know what else to do, so I held them.”
“In my wife's bed.”
“They wanted somewhere that smelled like her.”
Alexander sank into his chair.
For the first time, Annie saw something beneath the billionaire, the executive, the controlled widower.
A frightened father.
“What do I say to him?”
Annie blinked.
It was the first question Alexander had asked instead of issuing an order.
“Tell him the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That children don't cause accidents.”
Alexander nodded slowly.
“And Jordan?”
“Tell him you still love their mother.”
Alexander looked toward Lauren's photograph hidden facedown inside his desk drawer.
Annie noticed.
“Maybe start by putting that back.”
That night, Alexander entered the twins' bedroom.
Jordan immediately pretended to sleep.
Justin watched him.
Alexander sat between their beds.
“I need to tell you something.”
No response.
He picked up the green stuffed dinosaur.
Captain.
Justin's eyes filled.
“Mommy's accident wasn't because of Captain.”
Justin's lower lip trembled.
Alexander continued.
“It wasn't because you dropped him.”
“But Mommy turned.”
“Yes.”
“Because I asked.”
“Yes.”
Justin began crying.
Alexander nearly called for Annie.
Instead, he stayed.
“The truck crossed the road, buddy. The driver lost control. Mommy couldn't stop it.”
“Then why did she die?”
Alexander's throat tightened.
“Because sometimes terrible things happen even when nobody did anything wrong.”
Jordan turned toward him.
“Did Mommy know we were there?”
Alexander looked between them.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She asked about you before surgery.”
Jordan sat up.
“What did she say?”
Alexander hadn't spoken these words aloud in fourteen months.
“She said, ‘Tell my boys Mommy loves them.’”
Justin climbed from his bed.
Alexander opened his arms.
The child hesitated.
Then ran into them.
Jordan followed.
Alexander held both sons as they cried.
Minutes passed.
Then Justin whispered against his shirt.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Do you still love Mommy?”
Alexander closed his eyes.
“Every day.”
May you like
From the hallway, Annie quietly walked away.
She didn't know Alexander had seen her.
