Greg kept going. “Claire has always been protective about the schedule.”
“Protective?” I asked.
“Restrictive.”
Madison turned toward him. “Wait.”
Greg froze.
What? I’m listening.
She stared at me. “You were stopping him from seeing Leo, right?”
“What?”
“Greg said he’s been fighting for more time with Leo for years.”
I looked at her. “He told you that?”
“Claire,” Greg warned.
You were stopping him from seeing Leo, right?
I smiled at him.
I’d barely started, and he was already doing the rest for me.
Madison stepped away from him. “You said she kept canceling your weekends.”
“I never canceled his weekends.”
“That’s not what you told me,” she said to Greg.
The room had gone quiet, and my ex’s boss was listening more closely now.
He was already doing the rest for me.
Greg lowered his voice. “Madison, we’ll discuss this later.”
“No. You told me you barely saw your son because she wouldn’t let you.”
“That’s basically what happened.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Basically?”
“Don’t.”
My ex’s boss was listening more closely now.
“I’m just trying to understand.”
A woman behind Martin whispered, “This is better than the speeches.”
I almost smiled.
“Last February you canceled a concert,” I said. “In May, you had me pick Leo up after three hours because you had plans.”
Greg’s jaw tightened. “Claire. Stop.”
This is better than the speeches.
There it was again.
Only this time, I didn’t have to.
Madison stared at him. “Then why did you tell me you were fighting for custody?”
Greg went still. “I didn’t say custody.”
“You absolutely did.”
Claire. Stop.
Martin quietly excused himself.
That seemed to scare Greg more than anything. “Martin, wait. This is just a personal drama.”
Martin turned back. “You made your family situation part of the conversation about your candidacy, Greg.”
“I never…”
“You’ve discussed it repeatedly.”
That seemed to scare Greg more than anything.
“I was explaining how I’ve grown.”
Madison gave a humorless laugh. “By lying to everybody?”
“Nobody lied!”
Leo appeared beside me. “Mom, can we go home?”
I took his hand. “Absolutely.”
I was explaining how I’ve grown.
Greg stepped toward us. “Claire, look what you’ve done.”
There were a thousand things I could’ve said.
A year earlier, I would’ve said every one of them.
Instead, I looked around at the faces Greg had spent months trying to impress.
Then I looked back at him. “I asked a few questions, Greg.”
“You knew exactly what you were doing.”
Look what you’ve done.
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “But you gave all the answers.”
And that was the best part.
I’d only opened the door.
Greg had walked through it, dug the hole, and climbed inside all by himself.
I squeezed Leo’s hand. “Come on, sweetheart.”
Then we left.
I asked a few questions, Greg.
***
In the car, he was quiet. “Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Did Dad only bring me because of his job?”
“Whatever your dad wanted tonight, none of it was your fault.”
“So I didn’t do anything wrong?”
“Not one thing.”
I’d only opened the door.
***
Two weeks later, Tessa called. “Greg didn’t get the promotion.”
“Because of the gala?”
“Because he’d made his whole ‘better father, better leader’ act part of his pitch. Once they realized he’d lied, they stopped trusting him.”
“And Madison?”
“Gone.”
Greg didn’t get the promotion.
For years, he had taught me to question my own voice.
But silence wasn’t something he could force on me anymore. I could speak when I chose – and stay quiet when it served me.
That night, I hadn’t needed to outtalk him or prove anything.
I asked one question.
Greg did the rest.
