The choice

The choice
Catherine stayed with Natalie for three nights. Erik called once each evening. The conversations never lasted more than a few minutes. He asked how she was, she gave him an honest answer, and neither of them tried to resolve their marriage through a phone screen.

Juliano didn’t call again. His silence should have made the conversation easier to dismiss. Instead, his final words returned whenever Catherine stopped working long enough to think.

But I want to.

He had used a disagreement between her and Erik to turn it into an opening. Whatever Juliano believed he could offer her, he had ignored the one thing she had made clear from the beginning.
She loved her husband.

Natalie entered the kitchen on Sunday morning and found Catherine seated at the counter with a cup of coffee and her phone.

“You’ve been staring at that screen for ten minutes,” she said. “Either call him or charge him rent.”

“I’m thinking.”

“That never takes you this long.”

“This isn’t a business decision.”

“No. Business decisions are apparently much easier than deciding whether to go home to the man you married.”

Catherine set the phone down. “I’m still angry.”

“You can be angry at home.”

“What if nothing changes?”

“Then you leave again. I’ll even keep the sheets on the bed.”

Catherine looked at her.

Natalie opened the refrigerator. “I’m generous like that.”

“I don’t want to keep leaving whenever things become difficult.”

“Then don’t leave because they’re difficult. Leave when you’ve decided you’re done.”

Catherine lowered her gaze to her wedding ring. She wasn’t done. She had never been close to done. Erik had hurt her. His jealousy had made him question her judgment, and his guilt had allowed a fifteen-year-old mistake to enter their marriage before he was willing to explain it. But he had told her the truth when she demanded it. An ugly truth that exposed his own failure as much as Juliano’s choices.

Juliano had seen the distance between her and Erik and used it as an opportunity to move closer.

Catherine picked up her phone.

“I need to make a call.”
Natalie reached for the coffee pot. “I’ll pretend I’m not listening.”

“You are going to listen.”

“Of course. I said I’d pretend.”

Catherine carried the phone into the guest room and closed the door. Juliano answered before the second ring.

“Catherine.”

“I need to say something, and I need you to let me finish.”

“All right.”

“What you said crossed a line. I told you that my marriage was none of your concern, and you continued anyway.”

“I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“You shouldn’t have seen it as an opportunity.”

Juliano remained silent.

“I value the work we’ve done together,” she continued. “I also valued what I believed was becoming a friendship. That cannot continue if you are waiting for my marriage to fail.”

“I’m not waiting for it to fail.”

“You arranged a flight to New York.”

The pause that followed confirmed what Thomas had discovered that morning while reviewing the summit attendee list.

“Moretti Capital has interests in New York.”

“You weren’t attending until yesterday.”

“No.”

His honesty unsettled her more than an excuse would have.

“I’m still attending the summit,” he said. “That decision has been made.”

“Then we will behave as business associates.”

“Is that what you want?”

“It’s what I’m choosing.”

“And Erik?”

Catherine looked toward the overnight bag resting on the bed.

“I love him.”

Juliano released a slow breath.

“That doesn’t erase what happened between you.”

“No. We have work to do. But that is between Erik and me.”

“You left him.”

“For three nights. That doesn't end my marriage.”

“I understand.”

She didn’t believe him. Perhaps he believed himself, but there was something in his voice that made the words feel temporary.

“I hope you do,” she said. “Because I won’t have this conversation again.”

“Will I see you on Thursday?”

“At the summit. With everyone else.”

Catherine ended the call before he could turn her answer into something more.

Natalie was waiting in the hallway.

“You are terrible at pretending,” Catherine said.

“I didn’t hear everything.”

“The door was closed.”

“It’s a small apartment.”

Catherine reached for her coat.

“Are you going home?”

“Yes.”

Natalie smiled. “Good. You’re welcome back if he’s an idiot again.”

“That isn’t exactly a high threshold.”

“I’ll keep the guest room ready.”

Erik was in the living room when Catherine entered the apartment. A book lay open on the sofa beside him, though the same page had probably been waiting for him much longer than she had.
He stood when he saw her bag.

“You came back.”

“I said I would call.”

“You did.”

He didn’t approach her. The restraint mattered. Catherine placed her bag near the hallway and removed her coat.

“Juliano told me he wants to take your place.”

Erik’s expression hardened, but he remained where he was.

“When?”

“The morning after I left.”

“Did he know where you were?”

“He worked out that I wasn’t here.”

Erik looked toward the windows. “And now he’s coming to New York.”

“Yes.”

“How long have you known?”

“Since this morning.”

“Why is he coming?”

“The Investor Summit.”

“He wasn’t on the original list.”

“He is now.”

Erik’s jaw tightened.

“I called him before I came here,” Catherine said. “I told him that our relationship will remain professional and that I won’t discuss my marriage with him again.”

Erik looked at her. “You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“No. I shouldn’t.”

“I was right about him.”

“This isn’t the moment to prove your point.”

His gaze dropped. “You’re right.”

Catherine crossed the room and sat on the sofa.

“I didn’t come back because Juliano crossed a line. I came back because this is my home and you are my husband.”

Erik sat opposite her.

“I choose you,” she continued. “I chose you when I married you. But that choice doesn’t mean I will accept secrets because you think they protect me.”

“I understand.”

“I need honesty even when it makes you look bad. I need you to trust my judgment even when you disagree with it. And I need us to stop treating work as something we can always place before each other.”

Erik leaned forward. “I can do that.”

“You can try. So can I.”

He nodded.

For a moment, neither moved. Then Erik held out his hand. Catherine looked at it before placing hers in his. His fingers closed around hers, familiar and careful.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “For the story. For waiting. For making my fear sound like doubt in you.”

“I’m still angry.”

“You have every right to be.”

“I may be angry tomorrow too.”

“I’ll still be here.”

Catherine moved closer. Erik lifted his free hand to her face but waited until she leaned into his touch. Their kiss held no promise that the damage had disappeared, only the decision to repair it together.

Across the Atlantic, Juliano sat aboard his jet with Catherine’s words repeating in his mind.

I love him.

He looked at the second place reserved beside him for Thursday’s summit. Catherine had chosen Erik. That didn’t mean he was going to walk away.