Chapter 2 - THE MAN DOMINIC CALLED A BUREAUCRATMy father arrived forty-three minutes later.
Not in the old blue pickup Dominic loved making jokes about.
Not in a taxi.
Not even in his personal car.
A dark government sedan stopped beneath the hospital awning, followed by another vehicle.
Two men stepped out first.
One opened the rear door.
Then my father emerged.
For the first time in my adult life, I saw General Charles Brooks before I saw Dad.
He wasn't in full ceremonial uniform. He wore a dark suit beneath a long charcoal coat, but there was something unmistakably military in the way he moved. Straight-backed. Deliberate. Controlled.
Carla, the discharge nurse beside me, glanced toward the men accompanying him and then toward me.
“Your dad's retired government?”
I almost laughed.
“Technically.”
Dad saw me.
Everything about his face changed.
His stride quickened.
“Audrey.”
He didn't hug me immediately because he knew about the incision.
Instead, he placed one hand carefully behind my head and kissed my forehead.
Then he looked at Leo.
I had seen my father during funerals, promotions, national ceremonies and my mother's final days.
I had seen him receive terrible news without visibly shaking.
But the first time he looked at his grandson, his eyes filled.
“This him?”
“This is Leo Charles.”
Dad blinked.
“You gave him my name?”
“I wanted him to have something from a good man.”
His gaze snapped back to mine.
That was the moment he understood this wasn't merely about a ride.
He looked at the twelve dollars still in my hand.
“What's that?”
I opened my palm.
“Bus fare.”
Dad stared at the bills for several seconds.
Then he folded them carefully.
He didn't tear them.
Didn't curse.
Didn't call Dominic.
He simply put them into the breast pocket of his coat.
“Keep those,” I said.
“I intend to.”
“Why?”
“Because one day I want you to remember exactly what staying in that marriage was costing you.”
That hurt more than anger would have.
A driver loaded my small overnight bag.
Dad personally helped me into the sedan, supporting my elbow without treating me like I was helpless.
Once Leo's carrier was secured, Dad sat beside me.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Home.”
His jaw tightened.
“To Dominic?”
“No.”
That single word seemed to release something inside him.
I looked out the window.
“I want to go to your place.”
Dad nodded.
“Virginia?”
“You still have the apartment here?”
“For another month.”
“I'll stay there.”
“As long as you want.”
I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes.
Dad didn't ask questions for the first ten minutes.
That was his way.
He never interrogated people when they were bleeding.
Physical or otherwise.
Eventually he said, “How long?”
I knew exactly what he meant.
“Two years.”
His face stayed forward.
“What has he done?”
“He hasn't hit me.”
“I didn't ask what he hasn't done.”
I swallowed.
“He controls the accounts. He changed the passwords to our joint investments. He makes me ask before I use certain cards.”
Dad's hand slowly closed around his knee.
“I thought your finances were separate.”
“They were.”
“What changed?”
“Dominic said combining things would make us stronger.”
“And?”
“He moved money into his company.”
“How much?”
“I don't know.”
Dad finally turned toward me.
“You don't know?”
“I stopped asking.”
“Why?”
“Because every question became a fight.”
I heard my own words and hated how weak they sounded.
Dad didn't.
He just asked, “What else?”
“Victoria has a key to our apartment.”
“I know.”
“She comes over whenever she wants.”
“That I didn't know.”
“She rearranged the nursery while I was in the hospital.”
Dad's eyebrow moved.
“She what?”
“She hated the colors.”
“Audrey.”
“I know.”
“No. I don't think you do.”
His voice remained quiet.
“You're describing an entire system built around teaching you that your preferences require permission.”
I stared at my hands.
Dad had always been able to name things I tried to disguise.
“I kept thinking after Leo came, things would change.”
“Sometimes they do.”
I looked at him hopefully.
“People get worse when they think you're trapped.”
The hope died.
But deep down, I knew he was right.
Meanwhile, Dominic was eating lunch.
I knew because at 2:14 p.m., Victoria posted a photograph online.
Champagne.
Oysters.
Dominic smiling.
My SUV visible through the restaurant window.
The caption read:
Finally, a civilized afternoon after a stressful week. My wonderful son knows how to take care of his mother.
I stared at it.
Dad saw my face.
“What?”
I handed him the phone.
He read the caption once.
Then again.
He returned the phone without commenting.
That worried me more than anything.
Dad's anger had always become quieter as it became more serious.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Don't do anything.”
His eyes shifted toward me.
“Define anything.”
“Don't call people. Don't intimidate Dominic. Don't use your old connections.”
A faint smile touched one corner of his mouth.
“You think very highly of retired generals.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“Promise me.”
He studied me.
Then nodded.
“I will not interfere with your marriage.”
I exhaled.
“Thank you.”
“But if crimes have been committed against you, that's no longer a marital issue.”
I stared at him.
“What crimes?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why would you say that?”
“Because a man who controls money he didn't earn, drives a vehicle he doesn't own, lies easily, isolates his wife and treats her assets like corporate resources rarely develops those habits in only one room of his life.”
I wanted to tell him he was being paranoid.
Then I remembered something.
Two months earlier, I had discovered a second mortgage document inside Dominic's desk.
Our apartment wasn't mortgaged.
At least, not to my knowledge.
I had asked him about it.
He grabbed the paper from me and called it company paperwork.
That night, he moved his office files to a locked cabinet.
“Dad.”
He heard something change in my voice.
“What?”
“There might be something.”
He waited.
“I saw loan documents.”
“For the company?”
“I don't know.”
“Were your name or assets listed?”
My stomach turned.
“I didn't read enough.”
Dad pulled out his phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“No one.”
He handed it to me.
On the screen was the contact information for an attorney.
“Her name is Rebecca Hayes. She's a civilian attorney. Family law, financial fraud, asset protection. She's good.”
“You already had her number?”
“I've had her number for fifteen years.”
“Why?”
“Because preparation isn't pessimism.”
That was pure Charles Brooks.
An hour later we arrived at Dad's apartment.
I had barely settled Leo into the bassinet when my phone began vibrating.
DOMINIC.
Six missed calls.
Then a message.
Where are you?
Another.
Why aren't you home?
Another.
Audrey, this isn't funny.
Then:
Mom and I are at the apartment. Where is my son?
I stared at that sentence.
Not Are you okay?
Not Did you make it home safely?
Not even Where are you and Leo?
Where is my son?
As though I had stolen something belonging to him.
Dad was in the kitchen making tea.
“Do I answer?”
He didn't look up.
“Do you want to?”
“No.”
“Then don't.”
A minute later, Dominic called again.
I declined.
Then Victoria called.
I declined that too.
Three minutes passed.
A voicemail appeared.
I played it.
Dominic's voice exploded through the speaker.
“Audrey, you need to stop acting insane and come home immediately. Mom says this is postpartum hormones, and I'm trying to be understanding, but taking my child somewhere without telling me crosses a line. Call me before I start making calls myself.”
Dad slowly placed the kettle down.
I looked at him.
“Still want me not to interfere?”
I almost smiled.
“Very much.”
“Shame.”
Then someone buzzed Dad's apartment from downstairs.
We both froze.
Dad walked to the intercom.
“Yes?”
The doorman answered.
“General Brooks, there's a gentleman here asking for Mrs. Marchetti. Dominic Marchetti.”
My blood went cold.
“He followed me.”
Dad looked at me.
“No.”
“What?”
“He didn't follow you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because we took precautions.”
I looked toward the door.
“Then how did he find me?”
Dad turned slowly.
“That is an excellent question.”
May you like
And suddenly our problem was no longer just that my husband had abandoned me outside a hospital.
It was that somehow, less than two hours later, he knew exactly where I'd gone.
Related Stories
