“But I don’t want our entire future to become an apology.”
He nodded.
“What do you want?”
“The truth.”
“Always.”
“That’s difficult.”
“Try.”
So he did.
He told me things.
Ugly things.
Fearful things.
Moments from the crash.
Years of surveillance.
The first time he stood alone after rehabilitation.
How guilty he felt watching me cry when doctors said he would never walk.
How many times he almost told me.
How afraid he was that I would tell Garrett after we married.
That one hurt.
“You trusted him less than me.”
“No.”
“You trusted my love for him more than my judgment.”
Tobias thought about that.
“Yes.”
I appreciated the honesty.
“Don’t do that again.”
“I won’t.”
Mercer Marine survived.
Barely.
The scandal frightened customers.
Board members resigned.
Some contracts froze.
Employees worried.
For months, I wanted to sell everything.
Then I remembered my father.
He had refused to surrender the company to Victor.
Tobias and I decided not to either.
But we changed how it operated.
No family member received automatic executive power.
Independent directors gained more authority.
Major ownership transfers required external review.
Security protocols changed.
Whistleblower protections expanded.
Samuel became an official adviser.
For the first time, his name appeared on paper.
He hated that.
I enjoyed it.
Penelope gave birth to a daughter.
I learned through attorneys.
She named her Evelyn.
I did not visit.
Not then.
