Chapter 5: The Offer

By Monday morning the clip of me walking out had four million views.

Somebody had cut it to a sad piano song and titled it "Bride marries a mask."

I read the comments in the clinic break room with a cold coffee, standing up.

Half of them said I was brave.

The other half said it had to be a prank, and nobody walks out on three hundred people unless they have a reason.

I had gone back to work because the alternative was Hallie's couch.

My mother's quilt was on that couch, and I had cried into it enough.

I had also thought about Cal's hand over the camera lens, flat and sure, more than I liked.

"Lena," said my boss from the doorway. "There's a woman in the waiting room asking for you. She brought muffins."

I knew before I turned around.

Gwendolyn sat in the waiting room in a navy dress, with a bakery box on her lap and her handbag at her feet.

Eight people sat around her with dogs, cats and one very calm rabbit, and every one of them was looking at me.

She stood when I came in.

"There she is," she said warmly. "Darling, I won't take a minute."

"You can say it here."

"Here? Oh, I'd rather not."

"Here," I said.

She looked at the waiting room, then at me, and understood I wasn't going to move.

So she lowered her voice just enough to sound private and kept it loud enough for everyone.

"Brooks and I have been so ashamed," she said. "We want to make it right. Not a lawyer, nothing ugly. Just us."

She took an envelope from her purse and held it out.

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