Chapter 8 - Owen Had Let Daniel Keep Hating Him
Daniel and Owen went into the library.
Evelyn stayed in the foyer.
Vanessa sat at the opposite end of the house.
For the first time that day, nobody asked Evelyn to stand between them.
Inside the library, Daniel poured water and didn't drink it.
“How did Dad find you?”
“Email.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“What did he say?”
Owen leaned against the mantel.
“‘I owe you a conversation.’”
“That’s it?”
“First email.”
“Did you answer?”
“Two weeks later.”
Daniel laughed.
“You made him wait.”
“I was trying to look less desperate.”
“Were you?”
“No.”
Owen looked toward the bookshelves.
They had been boys in that room once.
Daniel reading.
Owen annoying him until he gave up.
“First meeting was a hotel restaurant.”
“Why not here?”
“He said you came by the house too often.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“Dad hid you from me.”
“Yes.”
“And Vanessa knew.”
“Eventually.”
“When?”
“Second year.”
“So for two years Dad hid it from her too.”
“Yes.”
That complicated something Daniel had wanted simplified.
“Did he apologize?”
“Some.”
“Some?”
“He said he should’ve corrected the story after he learned Vanessa had been in the study.”
“Then?”
“He also said I had made it easy for everyone to believe the worst version of me.”
Daniel looked at him.
“That part is true.”
“I know.”
Owen had borrowed money without asking.
Lied about a job.
Missed their mother’s last Thanksgiving because he was embarrassed to admit he had been fired.
Every family develops a shorthand for one member.
Owen’s had been unreliable.
Once the label exists, it saves everyone time.
“Why didn't Dad tell me?”
Owen laughed.
“Pick a reason.”
“Give me his.”
“He said you were happy.”
Daniel stared.
“With Vanessa.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“He thought correcting what happened would make you question your marriage.”
“And?”
Owen’s expression hardened.
“I told him that was your problem.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
“What else?”
Owen looked away.
“He said you had spent years defending him too.”
“Dad?”
“Yes.”
“To me.”
That surprised Daniel.
“Defending him for what?”
“For throwing me out.”
Daniel remembered standing beside Henry in the study.
Get out of this house.
Daniel had said nothing.
Owen continued.
“Dad knew if he admitted he was wrong about that night, you'd have to look at what you did next.”
“What did I do?”
Owen stared.
“You stopped answering.”
Daniel's jaw tightened.
“You called me a liar.”
“You had lied.”
“Yes.”
“You told Vanessa she was manipulating me.”
“She was.”
“Again, you had lied.”
Owen laughed softly.
“Exactly.”
They looked at each other.
Daniel had not cut Owen off because of one false accusation.
He had been tired.
Embarrassed.
Angry.
Owen had been exhausting to love.
Vanessa’s accusation gave Daniel a clean exit from a relationship that had become work.
“That’s what Dad thought?”
Owen nodded.
“He said you needed me to be guilty because you were relieved when I left.”
Daniel looked away.
“That sounds like Dad.”
“It did.”
“Did you agree?”
Owen hesitated.
“Yes.”
Daniel looked back.
The answer hurt because Owen had not said it triumphantly.
“I hated you for years,” Owen said. “Then I had enough distance to admit I made being my brother expensive.”
Daniel’s face tightened.
“And you decided that meant I deserved the lie.”
“No.”
“Then why not contact me after Dad apologized?”
Owen looked at the floor.
“Because I wanted him first.”
Daniel stared.
“Excuse me?”
“He had spent nine years choosing you.”
“That’s not—”
“It felt that way.”
Owen continued.
“So when he finally came looking for me, I didn't want to share him with the person who had already had him.”
Daniel looked at his brother.
Forty-one.
Thirty-nine.
Arguing like fourteen and twelve.
Owen said:
“I told myself I was waiting until Dad was ready.”
“You weren't.”
“No.”
“You were punishing me.”
“Some.”
Daniel sat.
Owen rubbed his face.
“Then Dad got sick.”
“And?”
“He kept saying he’d tell you.”
“Did you push him?”
“At first.”
“Then?”
“I stopped.”
“Why?”
“Because if he told you, the private version of him I had gotten back would become a family problem again.”
Daniel laughed quietly.
“You let me bury him without knowing.”
“Yes.”
“You stood outside the funeral.”
“Yes.”
“And watched.”
Owen’s eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Daniel wanted to hit him.
He also wanted to ask what their father had looked like during the last three years.
He hated both impulses.
“Was Dad happy to see you?”
Owen looked surprised.
Then answered.
“Sometimes.”
Daniel nodded.
That was enough for one room.
Before he left, Owen said:
“The black notebook wasn’t proof Vanessa lied twelve years ago.”
Daniel looked up.
“What was it?”
“I think it was Dad’s record of us.”
“What do you mean?”
“He wrote after our meetings.”
“About you.”
“About both of us.”
Daniel stared.
“Did you read any?”
“One page.”
“You promised not to.”
“I know.”
“What did it say?”
Owen’s expression changed.
“Your name.”
Then:
“And a date from six years ago.”
Daniel frowned.
Six years ago was three years before Henry contacted Owen.
“What happened on that date?”
Owen looked toward the foyer.
“You and Vanessa almost separated.”
Daniel went still.
May you like
Nobody outside their marriage knew that.
At least Daniel had believed nobody did.
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