Page 34 of Executive Decision

“You’ll be fine.”

We made it to the front of the Cathedral. I dropped the family off in our row before going round to the Carlisle-Delphines and paying my respects personally.

“Cal, it was so nice of you to do this,” Danna said.

“Lady Danna, it was the least I could do.”

She squeezed my hand. I looked down the row of her brood. Davey gave me a kind nod. Derrick, the younger son, stared into the distance. Dora cried on Dahlia’s shoulder while Dahlia’s partner, Susanne, tried to calm them. Lanie and I hugged.

My eyes settled on Daphne, looking at her hands. I couldn’t get over how small she looked compared to our last run-in years before. I observed her inverted posture—more fearful than sad—and wished I could say anything to her. Her husband didn’t so much as wrap an arm around her. He looked ahead like you might if called into a meeting that could have been an email.

* * *

Daphne

I sat shaking through Cal’s eulogy so much that I forgot to listen. As everyone cried for the loss of my father, I wept thinking about a return to London with a man who I no longer felt anything for. This was it—all laid bare. I couldn’t deny my suspicions or concerns.

I seethed beside my husband. I longed to grieve and cry at the loss of my father rather than fear my husband’s impending retribution, but tears wouldn’t run. We followed the casket outside like good little poppets, but resentment poured over me. I pulled my hand from Chandler’s grasp, but he held so tight I nearly winced.

Lanie swooped in on the steps. “You’re coming back with us.”

The glare she gave Chandler suggested he was not invited.

“She and I will travel together,” Chandler insisted.

“No. You will go back with the boys. The girls need time to chat.”

I stared, mouth gaping while figuring this out.

“Who died and made you queen?” Chandler chuckled, playing his thread off as a joke.

Chandler turned, almost pushing Lanie out of the picture. He gave me a long kiss—one I bristled against, then shot my sister a nasty look as he left.

Lanie took my arm gently and pulled me to where my other sisters waited with Susanna.

“Are you okay?” Dahlia asked.

“I’m… I’m holding on,” I fought tears.

My pulse raced from concern about how Chandler might act or what he might—probably would—do to me later in retaliation for Lanie’s brave attempt to extricate me. I was emotional, but thankfully, it played well.

We climbed into the waiting car. I held my breath as the driver pulled away. Back on Lakeshore Drive and far from the prying eyes of the press, I lowered my guard. I sobbed, collapsing on Dahlia’s shoulder.

“He’s cheating on me. I need a divorce, but… I’m scared.”

There was a flurry of chatter.

Lanie shouted, “Fuck him with a rusty nail!”

“Really?” Dahlia asked. “After all you’ve been throughforhis sake?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “He is seeing an intern. I saw her texts and confronted him about it this morning. It didn’t go well.”

“I’m sorry,” Dora said.

“It’s going to be impossible! I feel so fucking dumb!” I groaned.

“You aren’t dumb,” Dora said from the backseat. “He is. Because you’re a winner, and he’s not.”

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