Chapter 18 - What Clara Asked Me to Forgive
Three weeks later, Clara asked to see me.
I almost refused.
Then I thought about Sophie.
We met in a quiet café under federal protection arrangements.
Clara looked smaller somehow.
No expensive clothes.
No careful makeup.
Just a tired woman in a gray sweater.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
She nodded.
“I need to say everything once.”
I waited.
“I was paid to meet you.”
“I know.”
“I reported private conversations.”
“I know.”
“I recorded you.”
“I know.”
“I manipulated arguments between you and Nolan.”
That one hurt.
“I suspected.”
“I encouraged you to depend on Derek.”
“I know.”
“I slept with him.”
Silence.
Her eyes filled.
“For almost a year.”
Longer than I thought.
I looked out the window.
“Did you ever feel guilty when you helped me choose my wedding dress?”
“Every second.”
“But you kept going.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Fear.”
She swallowed.
“And selfishness.”
“I loved Derek.”
“I wanted the fantasy where we could finish Richard’s plan, disappear, and somehow become good people afterward.”
I looked at her.
“You understand how ridiculous that sounds.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She gave a small, broken laugh.
“That word has become very important around you.”
“Accountability is efficient.”
She nodded.
“I’m cooperating with prosecutors.”
“I heard.”
“I may still be charged.”
“You should be.”
“I know.”
Another silence.
Then she reached into her bag.
Not dramatically.
Slowly.
She placed a small box on the table.
Inside was my grandfather’s signet ring.
“I stole it.”
“I know.”
“Richard wanted it.”
“Why didn’t you give it to him?”
“I made a duplicate.”
I stared at her.
“He never knew.”
“You sabotaged him.”
“Sometimes.”
“Not enough.”
“No.”
Her honesty made anger difficult to organize.
Not disappear.
Just organize.
I took the ring.
“Why did you send me the message about the bridesmaid dress?”
“Because Cabo changed things.”
“What happened there?”
“Derek told me he was going to confess after the wedding.”
“After stealing the property?”
“Yes.”
I laughed bitterly.
“He really loved delayed morality.”
Clara almost smiled.
“Yes.”
“Thomas came because Richard suspected us.”
“And the airport?”
She looked ashamed.
“We thought no one was watching.”
“So the kiss was real.”
“Yes.”
I appreciated that she did not insult me with excuses.
“Do you still love him?”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“He loves you.”
Tears slid down her cheeks.
“That doesn’t mean we should be together.”
That answer surprised me.
“No.”
“It doesn’t.”
She wiped her face.
“I need to rebuild something Sophie can respect.”
“That’s your responsibility.”
“I know.”
I stood.
Clara looked up.
“Emily?”
“Yes?”
“I did love you too.”
I thought about three years of friendship.
Some moments manufactured.
Some perhaps genuine.
There was no clean way to separate them.
“I believe you think you did.”
Pain crossed her face.
But she nodded.
“That’s fair.”
I left.
Outside, Nolan waited in the car.
“How was it?”
“Awful.”
“Productive?”
“Maybe.”
“You forgive her?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I looked at him.
“You enjoy that word too much.”
He smiled.
Then handed me an envelope.
“What?”
“Derek’s sentencing agreement.”
My stomach tightened.
“He accepted?”
“Yes.”
Derek had agreed to plead guilty to financial conspiracy and obstruction.
His cooperation significantly reduced the potential sentence.
No deal had been finalized.
But prison was likely.
I stared at the paperwork.
“Do you want to see him?”
Nolan asked.
I almost said no.
Instead I looked through the windshield.
“Yes.”
May you like
“One last time.”
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