He waited.
Victoria, who could address four thousand employees without notes, suddenly looked uncertain.
"I was wondering whether at some point you might want to have dinner."
Marcus raised an eyebrow.
"All four of us?"
Victoria's face became slightly pink.
"No."
"Oh."
He let the silence last two seconds longer than necessary.
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're enjoying this."
"A little."
Victoria folded her arms.
"Well?"
Marcus thought of Sarah.
Not as permission.
Not as guilt.
Simply memory.
Three years earlier, the idea of another relationship had felt almost disloyal.
Now it did not.
Life had continued despite him.
Perhaps he was allowed to continue too.
"Dinner would be nice."
Victoria smiled.
Not the polished executive smile.
The other one.
The one Emma inherited.
"Okay."
Their first dinner was awkward.
They both laughed about that later.
Victoria arrived early.
Marcus arrived seven minutes late because Lily could not find her library book.
Neither knew whether discussing work was boring or safe.
Victoria asked about aerospace.
Marcus accidentally asked about quarterly earnings.
They both stopped.
"This is terrible," Victoria said.
"Deeply."
"Should we leave?"
"Probably."
Neither moved.
Eventually they talked about Sarah.
Victoria's late husband, Daniel, whom Marcus had known almost nothing about.
Daniel had died in a climbing accident when Emma was three.
Suddenly something Marcus had misunderstood about Victoria made more sense.
She too had raised a child while grieving.
She had responded differently.
Marcus withdrew from ambition because Lily needed presence.
Victoria buried herself deeper in work because work was the only place grief obeyed rules.
Neither method had been healthy in every respect.
Both had survived.
Victoria admitted:
"I think I became harder after Daniel died."
"People praised it."
"They said I was resilient."
"Decisive."
"Focused."
"So I kept becoming the version people rewarded."
Marcus looked at her.
"Until nobody could stand you."
She laughed so unexpectedly the table beside them looked over.
"Essentially."
Their relationship moved slowly.
Painfully slowly, according to Emma and Lily.
The girls became suspicious before Marcus and Victoria admitted anything.
One afternoon, Lily asked:
"Do you like Emma's mom?"
Marcus nearly dropped a screwdriver.
"Yes."
"Like like?"
"Where did you learn that phrase?"
"School."
"I pay taxes for this?"
Lily rolled her eyes.
"Do you?"
Marcus sighed.
"Maybe."
"Good."
"Why?"
"Then Emma can be my sister."
"That is still not how it works."
"Eventually."
Children have terrifying strategic patience.
A year later, Marcus and Victoria were still together.
No dramatic wedding.
No instant merging of families.
Two households.
Two careers.
Therapy.
Schedules.
Arguments.
Trust.
Emma occasionally stayed with Marcus and Lily.
Lily stayed with Victoria and Emma.
Marcus remained careful not to become financially dependent on Victoria.
Victoria remained careful not to solve problems with money simply because money was the tool she knew best.