Chapter 6 - The Man Who Asked For Another Dance
David disappeared before Ethan could confront him.
His office was empty.
His house was empty.
His bank accounts had been closed.
His passport had been flagged.
It meant one thing.
He knew.
And he was running.
Ethan spent forty-eight hours working with investigators.
Clare stayed beside Henry.
She brought food.
She organized documents.
She helped him find Margaret's old photographs.
On the third night, Henry looked at her.
“You love him.”
Clare smiled.
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
She sighed.
“Maybe.”
“Then tell him.”
“He's not ready.”
Henry nodded.
“Neither was I.”
He looked at the photograph of Margaret.
“Your mother taught me something.”
“What?”
“That love isn't about being ready.”
He touched the picture.
“You choose.”
That evening Ethan returned.
His tie was loose.
His face was exhausted.
He sat beside Clare.
“We found him.”
“David?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Portugal.”
She frowned.
“Are you going?”
“Yes.”
“And me?”
“You're staying.”
“No.”
His eyes lifted.
“Clare.”
“You don't get to leave me behind because you're afraid.”
“I am trying to keep you safe.”
“You're trying to control what happens next.”
He looked away.
She stepped closer.
“You can't control everything.”
“I know.”
“Then stop trying.”
He closed his eyes.
When he opened them, something had changed.
“I love you.”
Clare stopped breathing.
He continued.
“I didn't plan to.”
“You didn't plan anything about me.”
“No.”
She smiled through tears.
“That part I believe.”
He laughed softly.
“I don't know when it happened.”
“When?”
“I think it started when you laughed at my father.”
She shook her head.
“That was the beginning?”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“It was when you told me to breathe.”
Her eyes filled.
“Ethan.”
“I have spent years protecting everyone around me by never letting anyone close.”
He reached for her hand.
“You walked in anyway.”
She squeezed his fingers.
“And now?”
He smiled.
“Now I don't want you to walk away.”
She leaned forward.
He kissed her.
It was gentle.
Careful.
Nothing like the dramatic kisses in movies.
It felt better.
Because it was real.
That night they danced in Henry's living room.
No music at first.
Just their quiet footsteps.
Henry watched from the doorway.
“Finally.”
Ethan laughed.
“Dad.”
“What?”
Clare smiled.
“He's impossible.”
Henry grinned.
“You'll fit in.”
The next morning Ethan left for Portugal.
Clare stayed with Henry.
Before he left, he gave her the old dance card.
“Keep this.”
“Why?”
“So you remember I owe you a dance.”
She smiled.
“How many?”
“One.”
“Only one?”
He touched her cheek.
“No.”
He kissed her forehead.
“More than I can count.”
He left.
Clare watched the car disappear.
Three hours later, her phone rang.
It was Ethan.
“David is in custody.”
She smiled.
“Then come home.”
Silence.
“Clare.”
“What?”
“We found something else.”
“What?”
A recording.
From Margaret.
She had predicted everything.
David.
The network.
Anna's death.
Even Ethan's obsession with control.
Then came the final line.
If Ethan hears this, tell him the one thing I couldn't.
He deserves a life that isn't organized around fear.
Clare cried.
Ethan said quietly,
“I think I'm ready.”
May you like
“For what?”
“To come home.”
