CHAPTER 5 — The Truth She Tried to Bury
Eleanor knew he would come.
That was the problem with men like Maxwell Callahan.
They did not accept missing information.
They turned it into obsession.
She sat in her small apartment that night, watching Lily sleep.
The medicine had reduced the fever.
Barely.
Eleanor placed a hand gently on her forehead.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Not tonight.”
A knock came at the door.
Not loud.
Not impatient.
Certain.
She closed her eyes briefly.
Then opened them.
She already knew.
When she opened the door, Maxwell was standing there.
Soaked from rain.
Still perfectly composed.
“You should not be here,” she said immediately.
Maxwell stepped forward slightly.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Eleanor’s voice sharpened.
“You don’t get answers.”
A pause.
Then:
“You have a daughter.”
Silence.
Eleanor’s face did not change.
But something inside her did.
“Don’t,” she said quietly.
Maxwell’s voice dropped.
“She has my eyes.”
That sentence broke something controlled in the air.
Eleanor’s voice shook slightly.
“Eyes are not proof.”
Maxwell nodded.
“I checked the hospital.”
Silence.
Eleanor stepped outside, closing the door behind her.
“Then you know,” she said.
Maxwell stared at her.
“I know you gave birth alone.”
A pause.
“I know you never contacted me.”
His voice hardened slightly.
“And I know you made that choice without giving me one.”
Eleanor’s eyes flashed.
“You lost your right to that choice when you stopped seeing me as a person and started seeing me as a risk.”
Silence.
Rain hit the pavement harder.
Maxwell’s voice lowered.
“I never stopped loving you.”
Eleanor laughed once.
Tired.
Not amused.
May you like
“That,” she said quietly,
“was the problem.”
