Chapter 21 TWENTY-ONE
Three weeks into marriage and Lennox had the routine down perfectly.
Callum left by seven most mornings. She'd hear his shower running, the quiet sounds of him getting ready, then the elevator doors closing. By the time she dragged herself out of bed around eight, he'd be gone. Just a note on the counter about his schedule, breakfast waiting in the warmer, the penthouse empty and silent.
She'd eat alone. Scroll through emails. Stare out at the city and wonder how her life had become this.
Around noon, Callum would text. Client dinner tonight. Or Working late. Or Flying to Boston, back Thursday.
Sometimes she didn't see him for three days straight. When they did cross paths, it was worse than being alone. Just polite nods and careful small talk, both of them pretending this was normal. Pretending they weren't strangers who happened to share an address and a last name.
"How was your day?"
"Fine. Yours?"
"Busy."
"Right. Well, good night then."
Every conversation the same. Every interaction like walking on eggshells, neither of them willing to acknowledge how completely fucked up this whole situation was.
Patricia kept calling with tasks. More thank you notes because apparently three hundred wedding gifts required three hundred handwritten responses. Approving photos for social media because their wedding needed to be documented for maximum public consumption.
"These shots are gorgeous," Patricia gushed during one of their calls. "You two look so happy. So in love."
Lennox stared at the photos on her laptop. The photographer really had done an amazing job. There was one of Callum looking at her during their first dance, his expression almost soft. Another of them cutting the cake, both laughing at something Cole had said. Her gazing up at him with what looked like genuine adoration.
They looked like a couple. A real couple. That was the whole problem.
Patricia posted them strategically throughout the week. One perfect shot per day, timed for when engagement would be highest. The comments poured in. Beautiful couple! This is what true love looks like! Congratulations to the happy newlyweds!
Thousands of strangers building a narrative about their relationship based on carefully edited lies. It made Lennox want to scream.
She needed something real. Something that mattered outside this performance.
Brooklyn saved her. The youth center where she'd been volunteering for over a year became the only place she could breathe. Teaching computer skills to middle schoolers who actually needed her, who didn't care about her new last name or the ring on her finger or any of it.
"Miss Lennox, this Excel thing is so stupid. Why do I need to know this?"
"Because when you're applying for jobs, they're gonna ask if you know Excel. And you're gonna say yes, and you're gonna know what you're talking about."
"Can't I just lie?"
"You could. But then you'd look like an idiot on your first day when they ask you to make a spreadsheet and you have no idea what you're doing."
The kid laughed. "Fair point."
These were the conversations that felt real. The kids asking questions, actually listening to her answers, treating her like a regular person. It made her sometimes disconnect from the complexity of her present situation, and for that she was grateful.
She went Tuesdays or Thursdays without fail. Sometimes Saturdays when they needed extra help. The drive to Brooklyn gave her time to think, to decompress from whatever charity event or society lunch Patricia had scheduled. Time to remember who she actually was under all the designer clothes and perfectly styled hair.
Once a month she also made it out to Queens. Different center, different program. Financial literacy workshops for adults trying to figure out budgeting and credit scores and how not to get screwed by predatory lenders. The irony of her teaching people money management while married to someone worth billions wasn't lost on her. But it mattered. It helped.
At home, Maria became her anchor.
"Your husband, he works too much," Maria said one Thursday afternoon, folding laundry while Lennox sat at the kitchen island nursing her third coffee. "Always has. Even as a boy, he couldn't relax. Had to be the best at everything."
"Did his dad really push them that hard?"
"Push?" Maria shook her head. "That man didn't push. He demanded. Perfection or nothing. Cole, he learned to pretend it didn't matter. But Callum..." She sighed. "Callum tried to be what his father wanted. Still trying, I think."
Lennox thought about that. About Callum leaving at dawn and coming home after dark, buried in work like it was the only thing that mattered. Maybe for him it was.
"You're lonely, mija," Maria said suddenly, direct like always.
"I'm fine."
"You say that word a lot. Fine." Maria came around the island, squeezed her shoulder. "Fine is not the same as happy. Fine is what we say when we don't want people to worry."
"I don't want you to worry."
"Too late. I worry anyway." She went back to her laundry, humming something soft. "Marriage is hard work. Especially in the beginning. Takes time to figure each other out."
If only that was the problem. If only this was a real marriage where time and effort could fix things.
But Lennox just nodded and changed the subject to Maria's grandson's soccer game, letting the conversation drift to safer territory.
The days kept passing. Callum traveling more than he was home. Lennox filling her schedule with volunteer work and Patricia's endless social obligations and thank you notes she wrote.
She'd come home from Brooklyn exhausted but satisfied, eat dinner alone while watching TV, go to bed in her room while Callum worked late or slept in his or existed somewhere else in the massive penthouse. Two people living completely separate lives under the same roof.
It was fine. She was fine. Everything was fine.
Three weeks after the wedding, Lennox was getting ready for bed when her phone lit up with a text.
Lennox, hope you don't mind Patricia sharing your number. This is Victor Harding.
She'd been expecting this. Victor had mentioned twice now wanting to get lunch, get to know her better. Just friendly conversation, nothing weird about it.
Still, something about seeing his name on her screen made her stomach tighten.
I know I mentioned lunch before. Finally have my schedule sorted. Would Tuesday work? Say 1 PM at The Modern?
As Callum's wife, I think it would be good for you to understand more about the family business. The company dynamics, board relationships, that sort of thing. Callum can be rather reserved about these matters.
Lennox stared at the messages. Victor was right, Callum told her basically nothing about Westbrook Industries. She knew he ran it with Cole, knew it was worth billions, knew there was a board. That was it. He certainly never discussed business with her beyond the occasional complaint about difficult investors or product launches. Besides it would help her investigation as Cipher, an identity she had placed on hold for now till she settles in.
Maybe Victor was just being helpful. Patricia trusted him, had introduced him as practically family.
She should probably mention this to Callum. Check if it was okay.
But Callum was in Seattle until Thursday. And honestly, did it even matter? It was just lunch. A family friend trying to make her feel included in a world where she very much did not belong.
Tuesday works. 1 PM sounds good.
His response came immediately.
Wonderful. Looking forward to it. There's quite a bit about the Westbrook family history I think you'd find interesting.
Lennox set her phone down, staring at it in the dark.
Just lunch. Just a conversation. Nothing to worry about.
But she felt as though she needed to brush up on those flashcards she made before the wedding, she couldn’t afford to make mistakes.