The reporter looked surprised by my answer. She'd expected something more dramatic. More definitive."What's next for you?"For once, the answer came with calm certainty."Building something beautiful. The foundation Smith and I have been planning. Maybe a book about healing after betrayal. Definitely a life that's bigger than the worst thing that ever happened to me."As the evening wound down, Smith and I stood outside the theater. We breathed in the cool night air. The red carpet was being rolled up. The photographers were packing their equipment. The media circus was moving on to the next story."How do you feel?" Smith asked."Free," I said without hesitation. "After two years, I finally feel completely unbound.”He pulled me close. I melted into his embrace. "I'm proud of you. Not just tonight, but for everything. For the strength it took to rebuild. For the courage it took to face Allen yesterday. For the grace you showed tonight.""We rebuilt. You've been with me through every
I thought about Allen as I'd left him. Broken. Defeated. No longer the powerful figure who'd haunted my nightmares. "That the person I've been fighting in my head isn't real anymore. That holding onto anger was hurting me more than it was hurting him.""And?""And that I don't want to waste any more time letting his choices dictate my happiness."Margaret smiled. "That's my girl. You know, I've spent the last two years watching you rebuild your life with Smith. And I've been so proud of your strength. But I could also see the shadows Allen had left behind. Today, those shadows seem lighter.""They are. I feel like I can finally move forward without constantly looking over my shoulder.""Good. Because you have a beautiful life ahead of you, sweetheart. Don't let Allen steal any more of your happiness."That night as I lay in my bed, I understood now why my mother had always seemed so guarded. Why she'd been slow to warm to new people. Why she'd built walls around her heart that even I
"Because I have nothing left to lie for."I stared at him. I saw the truth of it written in every line of his face. The man who'd once commanded boardrooms and charmed investors was gone. What remained was someone who'd lost everything. His freedom. His reputation. His future. Someone who had no reason to perform anymore."I know this doesn't fix anything," he continued. "I know saying I'm sorry doesn't undo what I did to you. But I needed you to know that what we had in the beginning, that was real. My feelings for you were real."Tears I hadn't expected began burning behind my eyes.I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I was angry at myself for crying in front of him. "You don't get to make me feel sorry for you, Allen.""I don't want your pity. I want you to know the truth so you can stop carrying my poison around inside you."His words hit too close to home. The anger I'd been nurturing. Feeding. Using as fuel. Maybe it was poisoning me. Maybe that's why even the happiest mome
Smith's face went completely still. The warmth that had been there moments before vanished. Something cold and protective replaced it."What kind of something else?"I took a shaky breath. "I'm going to visit Allen in prison. Tomorrow."The silence stretched between us like a chasm. Smith stared at me. It was as if I'd just announced I wanted to jump off a cliff. When he finally spoke, his voice was carefully controlled."No.""Smith…""Absolutely not." He stepped back. He ran both hands through his hair. "Emelda, what could you possibly gain from seeing that man?""Closure. Understanding. I don't know." The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "I just know I need to see him. To look him in the eye and…""And what? Forgive him? Let him apologize and pretend that makes up for what he did to you?" Smith's voice rose despite his obvious effort to stay calm. "He destroyed your life. He stole your work. Your reputation. Your sense of self-worth. And now you want to give him th
The drive to Smith's mansion dragged beneath the weight of my thoughts. David's words echoing in my mind with each mile.This isn't just work, Emelda. This is purpose.The weight of his proposal sat heavy in my chest. It competed with the promise I'd made to myself. And to Smith. About being home by seven.I was actually going to keep that promise.The electronic gates recognized my car. They swung open silently. As I pulled into the circular driveway, I noticed something different.Warm golden light spilled from every window. Candles flickered on the front steps. My heart did a little flip.Smith had been planning something.I pushed through the front door and stopped dead. The entire foyer was lined with white roses. My favorites. Slow R&B music drifted from the living room. The air carried the rich scent of something incredible cooking."Smith?""In here." His voice came from the dining room. Warm with barely contained excitement.I followed the sound and felt my breath catch. The
The knock at my door interrupted my moment of quiet resolution. I glanced at my watch – barely ten in the morning, and I'd already promised Smith I'd be home by seven. For once, I was going to keep that promise."Come in."David Kim stepped through the doorway, and I felt my breath catch. I hadn't seen him since the trial six months ago, when his testimony had been the final nail in Allen's coffin. He looked different now – thinner, more tired, but somehow lighter too. The weight of carrying Allen's secrets for years had lifted from his shoulders."Emelda." He offered a tentative smile. "Thank you for seeing me without an appointment."I gestured to the chair Jessica had vacated. "David. This is unexpected."He settled into the seat, his hands fidgeting with a manila folder. "I know we didn't part on the best terms."That was putting it mildly. David had been complicit in Allen's schemes for three years before growing a conscience. While his eventual testimony had been crucial, I'd s