Chapter 6

Ryan’s cry made me realize he had stepped in front of Vivian.

The crystal award struck his temple and shattered, cutting the side of his face. Blood ran down his cheek as he doubled over.

I moved toward him, but Vivian shoved me back.

“Don’t touch him.”

She pulled Ryan against her shoulder. The resentment on his face vanished, replaced by fear and remorse. Only minutes earlier, he had admitted deceiving me and destroying the presentation. Now, trembling in her arms, he once again looked like the vulnerable man she believed she had to protect.

“I’m sorry, Caleb,” he said. “This is my fault. Don’t hurt Vivian. I love her.”

Then his body went limp.

Vivian called an ambulance. Before following the paramedics out, she looked back at me.

“You hit him and destroyed the apartment. You’ve had your revenge. We don’t owe you anything now.”

After the door closed, I sat against the wall among broken glass and overturned boxes. The apartment I had preserved for years was finally empty, yet I felt no relief. Exhaustion eventually dragged me to sleep.

Near midnight, someone seized my arm and pulled me awake. Vivian stood over me.

“Ryan is in the hospital, and you can sleep?”

“How is he?”

“His wound has been treated. Come with me.”

She hauled me downstairs and drove to the hospital parking garage. Staff and security officers had gathered on the top level.

Ryan stood in a hospital gown on the outer side of a concrete barrier. One step backward would send him onto the service lane below. Security officers kept their distance while a doctor spoke to him in a low voice, afraid that any sudden movement might make him jump.

Vivian gripped my wrist. “He woke up apologizing. He thinks he ruined your life and that you’ll never forgive him. Go talk him down.”

I watched his silhouette. We had survived hunger, violence, and abandonment in foster care. Ryan valued his life too much to throw it away over Vivian.

She could no longer see that.

“Tell him you forgive him,” she demanded. “Promise you won’t interfere with us. He says he has nothing left if you hate him.”

“You think I can forgive this?”

“I already told you the wedding will happen. What else do you want?” She kept her voice low so Ryan would not hear. “He has carried LumenWorks for years. You were able to leave and recover because he handled the clients, investors, and daily crises. He is the closest thing you have to family. Why can’t you give way once?”

Her words erased everything I had contributed.

When LumenWorks began, Vivian focused on product development while I recruited employees, found clients, reviewed contracts, managed operations, and entertained investors. A year ago, years of overwork ended with internal bleeding and severe anxiety symptoms.

Vivian had cried beside my hospital bed and told me to leave the company. She said LumenWorks existed because I had carried her through its hardest years. Once I recovered, we would marry.

Now she described me as a man who had enjoyed an easy life while Ryan carried everything for me. In her version of our past, my illness had erased every year that came before it.

I no longer had the strength to argue.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

Vivian released me in surprise. I passed the security line and approached Ryan.

“Come down,” I said. “No one is fighting you anymore.”

He looked over his shoulder.

Wind swept across the roof as I stopped a few feet from him.

“You wanted my place?” I said. “Take it. Vivian, LumenWorks, everyone who has already chosen you. I’m giving it all to you.”

Years ago, two armed thieves had broken into LumenWorks’ first warehouse office. Ryan drew them away so I could escape and call the police. By the time officers arrived, he had been stabbed and was bleeding out on the loading dock.

That night, he gave me the chance to live.

I had spent years mistaking that debt for brotherhood.

“After tonight, we owe each other nothing.”

Ryan studied me. For a moment, something like hesitation crossed his face.

Then he extended his hand.

“Then help me down.”

I caught his wrist.

His other hand locked around my forearm.

Before I understood what he was doing, he yanked me forward and twisted aside. My ribs struck the concrete barrier hard enough to drive the air from my lungs.

He had never intended to climb down.

He meant to throw me over alone.

I grabbed the front of his hospital gown on instinct.

Ryan’s expression changed.

Then we both fell.

I struck the metal canopy above the service lane first. Ryan crashed down on top of me, and something inside my chest cracked. He rolled away with a groan.

I could not move.

By the time rescuers lowered us to the service lane, blood had soaked through my shirt. A paramedic dropped beside me and pressed both hands against my side.

“His pressure is crashing!”

Vivian came running.

For one second, I thought she was running toward me.

Then she passed my stretcher and dropped to her knees beside Ryan.

“Ryan first!” she screamed. “Please, save Ryan first. He’s the man I love.”

The last thing I saw was her hand closing around his.