All Chapters of Dear Ex, See you never: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

116 Chapters

mother’s wish

Damon’s POVThe drive to my mother’s estate takes forty-seven minutes. I know because I’ve timed it, because control is easier when things are measurable. City to suburbs to hills where old money builds quiet monuments to itself. Today it feels longer.Heavier.Margaret meets me at the door. She’s been my mother’s nurse for three years now, solid and competent, the kind of woman who never wastes words.“She’s in the garden room,” she says. “She insisted on dressing herself today.”“How is she?”Margaret hesitates. That pause tells me more than any report.“She’s having a good day,” she says carefully. “But the good days are getting shorter.”I find my mother by the windows, seated in her favorite chair, the gardens stretching out beyond the glass. Gardens she designed. Gardens she can no longer touch.She’s wearing a blue dress I remember from another life. Galas. Fundraisers. Rooms that fell silent when she entered them. Back when her presence filled space instead of shrinking inside

the hidden wing

Damon's POVThe mansion is quiet when I arrive. The staff have learned my rhythms over the years, they know to make themselves scarce when I come home late, to leave meals in the warmer and questions unasked. I appreciate the silence tonight. I don't have any ounce of energy to perform.I pour myself a scotch in the study and stand at the window, looking out at the manicured grounds. The gardens here are nothing like my mother's. Everything pruned and controlled, not a single flower out of place. I had them designed that way on purpose. With order, precision, and predictability.The opposite of everything I feel inside. The scotch burns going down. I pour another, and after the third glass I set down the tumbler and walk.The east wing is separated from the rest of the house by a long hallway that most of the staff pretend doesn't exist. Elena knows, of course. She's known since the beginning, and her silence has been bought not with money but with the kind of loyalty that comes from

the legal long shot

Millicent's POVThe legal aid office is exactly what I expected. Fluorescent lights, water-stained ceiling tiles, chairs that have seen better decades. The woman across the desk from me looks like she hasn't slept properly in years."Sandra Li." She shakes my hand, brisk and efficient. "I've reviewed your file. You're fighting Hale Industries over the Westbrook demolition?""Yes."She shuffles through the papers in front of her and frowns at something. "You know you're going to lose, right? Hale has more lawyers than most countries. He could bury you in court cases for the next twenty years without breaking a sweat.""I know.""And you still want to fight.""I don't have a choice."She looks at me then. Really looks. Not just the polite glance of a professional doing her job. Whatever she sees makes her nod slowly."Alright. Let's see what we've got."She pulls out the permits, the environmental assessments, the community consultation records I gathered over weeks of research. I watch

the delay

Millicent's POVThe call comes on a Thursday afternoon. I'm in the middle of a shoot, a family portrait, parents and three kids and a dog that won't stop trying to lick the camera. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I almost ignore it, but something makes me check.Sandra Li."I need to take this," I tell the family. "Just one minute."I step into the back room, heart hammering. "Hello?""We got it." Sandra's voice is tired but triumphant. "Thirty-day injunction. The judge agreed there were enough procedural problems to warrant review."I sit down hard on the cot, legs suddenly unable to hold me."Thirty days?""The demolition crews can't touch your block until the review is complete. After that, we'll see. But for now you've got breathing room.""Thank you. Sandra, thank you so much..""Don't celebrate yet. Hale's lawyers are going to appeal. They're going to throw everything they have at overturning this. Thirty days is just the beginning.""I know. But it's something.""It's somethin

the visit

Millicent's POVThree days after the injunction, a black car pulls up outside my studio.I know it's him before he even steps out. The car is too expensive, too quiet, too out of place on this shabby block. It glides to a stop like a shark through water and suddenly every eye on the street is watching, with an insanely dangerous aura.Damon Hale steps out alone.No lawyers, no security, just a man in a suit that costs more than my yearly rent, standing on a sidewalk he now legally owns, and looking at a building he wants to destroy.I watch from the window as he studies the studio front. He's different than I remember from his office, or maybe I'm seeing him differently now that I'm not running on adrenaline and anger. He looks tired, he looks human, almost.Don't fall for it, I tell myself. He's here for a reason, and that reason isn't friendship.I force myself to walk outside."Mr. Hale." My voice is steadier than I feel. "I'd say this is a surprise, but I don't think anything you

the devil's offer

Millicent's POVThe call comes exactly one week after Damon Hale walked out of my studio.I'm editing photos on my ancient laptop when my phone buzzes. It's an unknown number. Normally I'd let it ring, but something makes me answer. I don't know what."Miss Andrews? This is Gregory Johnston, Mr. Hale's assistant. He'd like to request a meeting."I almost laugh. "A meeting? after everything, he wants a meeting.""Yes, ma'am. Tomorrow afternoon, if you're available. He suggests a neutral location, there's a diner on Fifth and Madison that he understands is near your studio."A diner. Damon Hale wants to meet me at a diner. If he wants to shoot me, it can't be in a public place, so that's out of the picture."Why?""I'm not at liberty to discuss the details, ma'am. Only that Mr. Hale has a proposition he'd like to present in person."A proposition. The word sits heavy in my stomach. I should say no, should I tell this Gregory Johnston to inform his boss that I'm not interested in any pro

the spiral begins

Brian's POVThe office is too quiet. It used to buzz with activity, phones ringing, assistants rushing past each other, the constant hum of a successful business doing successful things. Now it's just me and empty desks and the echo of my own failure.I refresh the browser tab for the fifteenth time."SHOP OWNER CHALLENGES BILLIONAIRE: LOCAL WOMAN BECOMES FOLK HERO IN FIGHT AGAINST DEVELOPMENT"There's a picture of her, Millicent, standing in front of that stupid little photo studio with her chin lifted and her eyes fierce. She looks beautiful, she looks powerful, she looks like someone I don't recognize.When did she become this person? The Millicent I married was soft, compliant, eager to please. The Millicent I divorced was broken, crying, and pathetic looking. This woman staring back at me from the screen..this isn't the same person.I close the laptop and reach for the whiskey on my table.It's 2 PM on a Tuesday, and I shouldn't be drinking. I should be meeting with clients, revi

the mother's pressure

Millicent's POVMom is sober today, almost shocking. It's the first thing I notice when I walk into her house, she's actually upright, actually dressed, actually looking at me with clear eyes instead of the glazed vacancy I've grown used to."You're early," she says."And you're sober. How nice.""Don't sound so surprised." She moves into the kitchen, and I notice she's made coffee. Real coffee, not the instant stuff she usually defaults to. "We need to talk."I settle Josh into the playpen I keep here for visits and follow her warily. Sober June is unpredictable, sometimes she's sharp, insightful, almost like the mother I remember from before Dad left. Other times she's mean, using her clarity to pick at wounds she'd usually be too drunk to notice."There's been a car," she says, pouring two cups. "Black, and expensive. Parked outside the house twice this week."I stiffen. "That's..""I asked around. People are talking, Milli, about you and some rich man, some billionaire who wants t

the terms

Millicent's POVThe mansion is obscene, that's the only word for it. Obscene in its size, its luxury, its aggressive and merciless display of wealth. It sprawls across the landscape like a monument to excess, lall marble columns and towering windows and gardens so perfect they look artificial.The driver who picked me up hasn't spoken a word since I got in the car. When he pulls up to the front entrance, and a woman in a crisp uniform opens my door before I can reach for the handle."Miss Andrews? Mr. Hale is waiting for you in the east sitting room. Please follow me."I follow her through halls that echo with emptiness. Everything is beautiful and cold, pristine artwork, gleaming floors, furniture that looks like it's never been sat on. It's like walking through a museum after hours.The east sitting room is smaller than I expected. Still massive by normal standards, but almost intimate compared to the cavernous spaces we passed through. Two leather chairs face a fireplace that's not

the 47th hour

Millicent's POVHour one: I read the contract three times. Then I throw it across the room, pacing across the room for as long as I can. I watch Josh, playing and I hope he doesn’t begin to cough. But hope can only do so much, reality isn’t nice anymore to me.Hour four: I pick it up and read it again. The legal language blurs together, but the meaning is clear. I spend just one year of my life as his wife, In exchange for everything I've ever wanted for Josh.Hour seven: I make a long list of pros and cons. Things I want for Josh, maybe nothing for me, as long as Josh gets the best medical care possible.Pros: Josh gets medical care. Real care, not the patchwork of free clinics and payment plans I've been scraping together. The studio stays, I stay, I get so much money, enough money to never worry again.Cons: I lose my freedom. Freedoms to be who I truly am, who I want to grow into, and I become someone else’s property, even if it's "just" for a year. I live in a stranger's house, f

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