Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Harper

Richard requested a meeting three days after the dinner party, and this time, he came to us.

He arrived at the mansion unannounced, standing in the foyer with the same rigid posture he always carried, though something in his expression seemed different this time. Less certain.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Damian said, meeting him in the hallway.

“I wasn’t expecting to come.” Richard glanced past him, finding me near the staircase. “Harper.”

“Richard.”

An uncomfortable silence stretched between the three of us before Damian finally gestured toward the study. “Say what you came to say.”

We settled into the room, Richard choosing a seat near the window rather than his usual position of authority behind a desk. Something about the choice felt deliberate, almost humbling.

“Marcus called me,” Richard said finally. “After the dinner.”

“I imagine that conversation went well for you.”

“It didn’t.” Richard’s jaw tightened. “He said your wife handled herself better than most executives he’s worked with in thirty years.”

I hadn’t expected that particular detail to reach Richard’s ears, though I supposed news traveled quickly in circles this small.

“Is that why you’re here?” Damian asked. “To concede?”

“I’m here,” Richard said slowly, “because Marcus also mentioned something else. Something about loyalty being harder to manufacture than performance.”

Neither of us spoke, waiting for him to continue.

“He said watching the two of you defend each other reminded him why he invested in this family in the first place. Decades ago. Before I let ambition replace everything else that mattered.”

The admission, quiet and unexpected, landed heavier than any accusation could have. I glanced at Damian, finding the same surprise mirrored in his expression.

“That’s not an apology,” Damian said carefully.

“No,” Richard agreed. “I’m not sure I know how to give one properly. I’ve spent too many years believing apologies were weaknesses, same as everything else emotional I taught myself to avoid.”

“But?”

“But watching you two this past year,” Richard said, voice rougher than I’d ever heard it, “I’ve started wondering if I taught myself the wrong lessons entirely.”

The silence that followed felt significant, heavier than anything spoken directly. Richard Blackwood, cold and controlled for as long as I’d known him, sat in front of us looking, for the first time, genuinely uncertain.

“I’m not asking for forgiveness,” he continued. “I know I haven’t earned that. I’m simply telling you I’m withdrawing my involvement with Halloway. Whatever doubt I planted, I’ll work to undo.”

“Why now?” Damian asked. “After everything?”

Richard considered the question seriously. “Because your mother once told me something similar to what Marcus said. Loyalty built on love outlasts loyalty built on fear. I didn’t believe her at the time. I’m beginning to think she was right.”

The mention of Damian’s mother visibly affected him, something soft and grieving flickering behind his controlled expression. I reached for his hand under the table, offering silent support.

“She would have liked Harper,” Richard said quietly, almost to himself. “I think she would have liked this version of you far more than the one I helped create.”

Damian didn’t respond immediately, clearly working through emotions he rarely allowed himself to display. I stayed quiet too, recognizing this moment needed space rather than intervention.

“I don’t know if we can undo forty-five years of this, Richard,” Damian said finally. “But I’m willing to see if we can build something different, going forward.”

“That’s more than I deserve.”

“Probably,” Damian agreed. “But Harper taught me something too. Holding onto anger costs more than it protects.”

Richard’s eyes shifted toward me, something almost grateful in his expression. “Thank you. For whatever you did to soften him.”

“I didn’t soften him,” I said. “I just gave him room to be exactly who he already was underneath everything he’d built to protect himself.”

Richard nodded slowly, standing to leave. At the doorway, he paused, glancing back at both of us.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “the wedding photographs were beautiful. Victoria showed me, despite my protests otherwise.”

With that, he left, footsteps echoing down the hallway until the front door closed quietly behind him.

Damian remained still for a long moment after he’d gone, processing everything that had just happened.

“Are you okay?” I asked gently.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve spent so long expecting him to be exactly who he’s always been. I don’t know what to do with this version of him.”

“You don’t have to know immediately,” I said. “Give it time. Trust doesn’t rebuild overnight, but it can rebuild eventually, if both sides actually want it to.”

Damian pulled me close, resting his chin against the top of my head. “How did you get so wise about all of this?”

“I had a lot of practice forgiving people who didn’t deserve it easily,” I said. “Turns out the practice pays off eventually.”

He laughed softly, some of the day’s tension finally beginning to ease from his shoulders. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

We stood there together for a long moment, the study quiet around us, sunlight slipping gently through the windows. Whatever came next with Richard — however slowly trust rebuilt itself, however uncertain the road ahead remained — we’d navigate it exactly the way we’d navigated everything else.