My Husband's Regret

a

e quietest day of my week, and that particular one ended with three missed calls from m

S VANISHES AMID

t become a public one. The article itself was thin on real facts - a few lines about Chloe's disappearance, a vague reference to "personal difficulties within the marriage," a photo of

now, fully, though I have my suspicions, and none of the

tructing their own versions of what had happened, some sympathetic to Chloe, most simply hungry for the kind of scandal that made wealthy families feel less untouchable for an afternoon. A few comments speculated she'd left over an affair. None of

is voice had none of the concern I might have hoped for and all of the controlled fury I re

it," he said.

ng at it r

ut of the merger discussions entirely. Do you understand what that costs us?

dn't fully understand until much later - a kind of clarity that arrives sometimes in the middle

left because of something I did, an

this family a great deal more than one merger." His voice had the particular flatness he used when he considered a conversation to already be settled in hi

moved through m

stand that the priority here is finding her and bringing her bac

ed a PI, Dad.

let this drag on while you play at being the grieving husband for an audience.

tried to understand what he was actually telling me, what "engaged someone" and "real resources" meant comin

ll them to do if

the press finds her first and tur

back how,

ong as it's handled befor

fury rise in me that had nothing to do with the merger and everything to do with the sudden, sickening understanding that he had set somethin

ce she rarely inserted herself into anything my father had alr

y trying to protec

to protect

and you know that better than anyone. But I called because I wanted t

ne. "I want her safe," I said finally. "I want to know she's alright, and I want the chance to make

her - something almost like a warning, almost like sympathy. "Because your father

ired myself, on my own terms, and asked him directly whether h

ed someone through his usual channels, I'd guess ex-corporate security, maybe someone who's done s

find out who

if

ause if my father's people find her before I do,

lling in favors, trying to trace whatever thread my father had already pulled, all while a headline about my failed marriage sat at the top of three se

ing alone in the house that still hadn't stopped

was well, whether the child my PI's early digging had started to suggest might exist was healthy. Every question,

y hadn't been for a long time, if I was honest with myself, but it had taken watching my

almer now, though the calm cost me

oever you hi

ak

ly what you've authorized, and let them decide whether that's the kind of

me he understood I meant i

ke. For the first time in longer than

enough on yet, distracted as I'd been by therapy sessions and Christina's unraveling and my own slow, painful reckoning with the man I'd been. Somewhere around two, my phone buz

t answer

se enough to Chloe to be reporting back on whether she was picking up a phone. Close enough that "not answering" implied a door someone had already knocked on, a car someon

ly - Halbrook Associates, the same corporate security group my father's compan

don't have a location yet. But they're already in t

of the two years before that, every night I'd chosen distance over her, every small betrayal that had built, brick by brick, toward a stranger in a car somewhere out the

s instinct telling me that motion, any motion, was better than sitting still while my father's people did whatever they'd been authorized to do. I didn't drive anywhere. I sat at my kitchen table instead, staring at Reeves's message until the words blurred, and made myself a prom