The Days Without Him

Audrey showed Julian the message that evening.

He read it while Poppy was occupied with a puzzle across the room. His face changed so slightly she might have missed it if she hadn't spent three years learning his silences.

"Don't answer," he said.

"I wasn't going to."

"Good."

"But I am asking you."

He looked at her.

"What?"

"Why does he think he knows things about our marriage?"

"Because he wants you looking at me instead of at what he's done."

The answer was reasonable. It wasn't satisfying.

Later, when they were alone, she brought up Poppy's request for a sibling. Julian moved a strand of hair from her cheek and said their daughter was enough for him.

"Is that because you don't want another child," Audrey asked, "or because you don't want one with me?"

His expression sharpened.

"Don't say that."

"Then help me understand."

He kissed her forehead.

"We have time to discuss it."

Time. An odd thing to promise a woman still considering leaving.

She allowed the conversation to stop, but didn't forget it.

Two days later, Julian announced a confidential business trip. He packed lightly and told her the schedule might change.

At the door, he rested his hand against her waist.

"Don't let Ryan make you doubt what you already know."

"And what do I already know?"

He looked down at her.

"Where I come home."

She could have said that wasn't enough. Instead, she caught his sleeve and kissed him before he turned away.

He stood still for a second afterward.

Then he brushed his mouth over her forehead and left.

The first rumor appeared that night.

Mercer Seriously Ill, Sources Say.

The second was worse.

A grainy hospital photograph accompanied speculation about stomach cancer. Nobody could identify the patient clearly, but the words beneath it made certainty seem unnecessary.

Audrey called Julian.

No answer.

She called Miles.

He said Julian was away and the reports were unreliable. When she asked to speak to him directly, he couldn't promise when that would happen.

By midnight, she was sitting on the bedroom floor with her phone connected to its charger.

The wall outlet was beside Julian's nightstand. She had chosen it without thinking.

She hated how even panic knew where he belonged.

In the morning, Poppy asked whether Daddy would return for dinner.

"I hope so," Audrey said.

"Can you tell him I finished the castle?"

"Of course."

She sent a photograph. Then another message. Then a voice recording of Poppy describing the castle's crooked tower.

Julian replied only that he was safe and would explain when he could.

Safe was a word. She wanted his voice, his face, the warm weight of his hand on her back.

She wanted him enough to resent him for it.

The rumors began affecting Mercer Group. An executive threatened to leave with client files, and the receptionist called Audrey because nobody could locate Julian or get a definite answer from Miles.

She went to the office.

She had once thought being Mrs. Mercer meant arriving at dinners in the right dress. Today, she stood across from a man who dismissed her with a smile and told him to return documents that didn't belong to him.

He asked whether she intended to stop him personally.

"I intend to make certain nobody confuses his absence with permission," she said.

She left the matter with counsel and went home shaking.

The executive died after a fall the next night.

Audrey read the headline three times.

She didn't know whether it was an accident, suicide, or something uglier. The strangers online didn't wait to find out. Julian's name appeared beneath every theory.

She called him again.

When he didn't answer, she sent one sentence.

I need you to tell me what's happening, even if I don't like the answer.

That afternoon, the preschool called.

Harriet had collected Poppy using her place on the emergency list. Had Audrey meant to authorize a family lunch?

For several seconds, Audrey couldn't speak.

Then she asked for the collection time, called Harriet, and called the police when Harriet didn't answer.

Her hands shook so badly she dropped the phone while trying Miles again.

He answered on the first ring.

"Tell me where she is," she said.

"We're locating them."

"Don't say that like you've misplaced a document. That's my daughter."

His voice changed.

"I know. Stay on the line."

The next twenty minutes stretched into something she would remember long after she stopped measuring them.

Miles called back with an address. Poppy was safe with Julian's security team. They were bringing her to him.

To him.

Audrey drove there with a responding officer following her car.

It was a secure apartment building she had never visited.

Julian opened the door.

Poppy was in his arms.

Audrey took her daughter and held her so tightly Poppy complained that Mommy's hair was tickling.

She kissed the child's face, checked her hands, asked the same question twice before trusting the answer.

Harriet had taken her for cake. Ryan had been there. There had been adults talking and no cake at all.

The officer spoke with Miles and reviewed the call records while Audrey sat holding Poppy.

Then she finally looked around.

Fresh coffee. An open laptop. Julian's shirts folded on the sofa.

He was pale, but standing. Alive. Working.

Waiting.

"You've been here," she said.

Julian looked at Poppy before answering.

"I'll explain."

Audrey understood more from that hesitation than any report could have told her.

Poppy touched Audrey's cheek.

"Mommy, you're squeezing."

Audrey loosened her hold immediately and kissed the little fingers.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I was worried."

"Daddy found me."

"I know."

She met Julian's eyes over their daughter's head. There was relief there, and fear, but she couldn't yet decide how much of either belonged to him.

The officer confirmed the arrangements for recording the incident. Audrey asked for the school's authorization list to be reviewed before the next morning, then gave the nanny a clear instruction that no change would be accepted without her direct approval.

She rose, keeping her daughter against her shoulder.

"We're going home. You'll follow us."

His gaze moved over her face.

"Audrey—"

"And for once, Julian, you're going to answer the question I actually ask."