Chapter 12 - Michael’s anger
Michael did not direct most of his anger at Richard.
Not first.
He directed it at himself.
“I brought her into this family.”
Claire eventually told him:
“I married you. You did not abduct me.”
Still he repeated:
“I should have known.”
He replayed the emails.
Phone records.
Security reports.
Richard’s advice.
Every time my father said:
“Give her space.”
Michael heard it differently now.
There was one memory he could not forgive.
Two weeks after Claire disappeared, he came to the mansion at midnight.
Drunk.
Not dangerously.
Enough.
He sat in the same central hallway.
Above her.
He cried.
Claire later said she heard footsteps but could not identify them.
She knocked.
Once.
Twice.
He heard nothing.
The marble, rug, and distance swallowed it.
When Claire learned it was him upstairs, she cried.
Michael said:
“I was eight feet from you.”
“No.”
“Daniel measured.”
She almost smiled.
I had.
Approximately eleven feet vertically.
Michael continued:
“I left.”
“You didn’t know.”
“I left.”
Claire touched his hand.
Then withdrew.
Their marriage became strange.
Love remained.
Trust became injured in ways neither had directly caused.
Claire knew Michael had been manipulated too.
Still, part of her had screamed for him for eighty-six days.
Emotions do not obey liability charts.
They began couples therapy after two months.
Not to:
save marriage.
To figure out whether they wanted one.
May you like
That distinction helped.
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