Chapter 8
We left Boston two weeks later.
Reynolds—now just Daniel, he said—had rented a small house on the coast of Maine.
Nothing like the mansion.
Three bedrooms. A fireplace. A porch that looked out over the Atlantic Ocean.
No gates. No security. No housekeepers.
Just us.
Mom was getting stronger every day.
The salt air was good for her.
The quiet. The lack of stress.
She started cooking again. Real food. Not hospital food. Not Margaret’s fancy cooking.
Mac and cheese. Meatloaf. Chocolate chip cookies.
The kind of food she used to make when it was just the two of us.
Daniel helped.
He was terrible at it.
He burned the toast. He over-salted the eggs. He put too much flour in the cookies.
But he tried.
And that was what mattered.
We went for long walks on the beach every afternoon.
Daniel taught me how to skip stones.
Mom collected seashells.
We built sandcastles.
We watched the sun set over the water.
It was perfect.
Too perfect.
I should have known it wouldn’t last.
It was a Tuesday in November.
Cold. Windy. The sky was gray.
We were inside playing Monopoly by the fire when there was a knock at the door.
Daniel stood up.
“Expecting anyone?”
Mom shook her head.
“No. Who would know we’re here?”
Daniel walked to the door and looked through the peephole.
His whole body went rigid.
“Who is it?”
He didn’t answer.
He unlocked the door and opened it.
Standing on the porch was Margaret Reynolds.
Daniel’s mother.
She looked smaller than before.
Frail.
Her white hair was messy. Her expensive coat was unbuttoned. She wasn’t wearing any makeup.
She looked like an old woman. Not the terrifying matriarch we had fought for months.
“Daniel,” she said. Her voice cracked. “Can I come in?”
Daniel stood in the doorway.
“You have a lot of nerve showing up here. After everything you did.”
“I know. I know. But please. It’s important. It’s about Victoria.”
Mom stood up.
“Let her in, Daniel.”
Daniel looked at her like she was crazy.
“Emily—”
“Let her in. She’s freezing.”
Reluctantly, Daniel stepped aside.
The old woman walked in.
She looked around the small living room.
At the fire. At the Monopoly board. At the family photos on the mantel—photos of us. Happy. Together.
Tears came to her eyes.
“You have a nice home.”
“Cut the crap, Mother. What do you want? Did Victoria send you? Is she not satisfied with taking everything I own? Does she want the couch too?”
Margaret Reynolds flinched.
“Victoria didn’t send me. Victoria is… in the hospital.”
Daniel froze.
“What happened?”
“She tried to kill herself. Last night. Pills. The housekeeper found her. She’s alive. But just barely.”
The room went dead quiet.
Mom sat down hard on the couch.
“Oh my God.”
“The twins are with my sister. They’re… they’re not taking it well. They keep asking for you, Daniel.”
Daniel didn’t say anything.
He just stood there. His face a mask.
“I know I have no right to ask you anything,” Margaret continued. “After everything I did to Emily. To Noah. To you. I was wrong. All of it. I was so afraid of losing the life I had built—of losing the Reynolds name—that I destroyed the only thing that really mattered. My family.”
She looked at Mom.
“I am so sorry, Emily. For the threats. For the money. For everything. You didn’t deserve any of it. And Noah… you are a fine boy. A credit to both your parents. I was wrong to say those terrible things about you.”
She turned back to Daniel.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me. I know I don’t deserve that. But I am asking you… to be with your children. The twins need their father right now. Whether you like it or not, they are yours. And Victoria… whatever she did… she doesn’t deserve to die alone.”
She reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper.
“Mass General. Room 412. She’s asking for you.”
She put the paper on the coffee table.
Then she walked to the door.
“I’ll let myself out.”
She left.
The door clicked shut behind her.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
The fire popped.
Outside, the wind howled.
Finally, Daniel picked up the paper.
He read it.
Then he looked at Mom.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Mom nodded slowly.
“You have to go.”
“Emily—”
“She’s the mother of your children, Daniel. And those kids… they didn’t ask for any of this. They’re just as much victims as we were.”
Mom stood up and walked over to him.
She touched his face.
“Go. Be with them. We’ll be here when you get back.”
Daniel looked at me.
“What about you, Noah? What do you think?”
I thought about Lily and Ethan.
About how they had stood in our living room and called us names.
About how cruel they had been.
But I also thought about what it would be like to lose my mom.
To almost lose her. Twice.
And I knew I couldn’t wish that on anyone.
Not even them.
“You should go,” I said.
Daniel nodded.
He kissed Mom.
Then he knelt in front of me and hugged me.
It was the first time he had really hugged me.
Tight. Real.
“I love you, Noah. Never forget that.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
It was the first time I had called him that.
He pulled back.
His eyes were wet.
He didn’t say anything.
He just stood up, grabbed his coat, and walked out.
We heard his car drive away.
Mom and I sat by the fire.
“Are you scared?” I asked.
“Scared of what?”
“That he won’t come back. That Victoria will wake up and he’ll decide he wants his old life back.”
Mom looked at the photos on the mantel.
At the three of us on the beach. Laughing. Happy.
“No. I’m not scared. Not anymore. Because whatever happens, I have you. And that’s always been enough.”
She pulled me close.
“Your father is a good man. He has a good heart. And good hearts feel things deeply. He hurts when other people hurt. Even people who have hurt him. That’s not a weakness, Noah. That’s the thing that makes him extraordinary.”
Three days later, Daniel came back.
He looked tired.
Worn out.
But he was alone.
He walked in the door and dropped his bag.
Mom stood up.
“How is she?”
“Alive. Awake. She’s going to be okay. Physically, anyway. The doctors say she needs a lot of help. Depression. Anxiety. She’s been sick for a long time. We just didn’t see it.”
“And the twins?”
“They’re okay. Scared. Confused. But okay. I told them I love them. That nothing will ever change that. That no matter what happens between me and Victoria, I will always be their father. I’m going to fly down to Boston every weekend to see them. They’re going to come here in the summer. Spend time with us. Get to know Noah.”
He looked at me.
“If that’s okay with you.”
I nodded.
“It’s okay.”
Daniel walked over to Mom.
He took her hands.
“I meant what I said in the hospital. I’m yours, Emily. Completely. Forever. Nothing is going to change that. Not Victoria. Not the past. Not anything.”
He knelt down and opened his bag.
He pulled out a small box.
He opened it.
Inside was a ring.
Simple. Beautiful. A single diamond.
“I know we’ve been through hell. I know I don’t deserve you. But I’m asking anyway. Emily Carter… will you marry me?”
Mom’s hand flew to her mouth.
Tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.”
Daniel slipped the ring on her finger.
Then he stood up and kissed her.
Long and slow.
Like they had all the time in the world.
Like the last nine years had never happened.
I looked away, embarrassed but happy.
Out the window, the sun had come out.
May you like
The ocean was sparkling.
And for the first time in my life, I believed that maybe—just maybe—we had finally found our happily ever after.
