“What good would that do? ‘Sorry’ doesn’t fix fundamental character flaws.”
Ollie is quiet for a moment, studying me. “You really love her.”
It’s not a question, but I answer anyway. “Yes.”
“Then maybe try anyway. Maybe give her the chance to decide if ‘sorry’isenough.”
“It won’t be.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” I turn back to my laptop, to the blank email waiting to be written. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a board meeting to prepare for.”
Ollie stands, but pauses at the door. “For what it’s worth, I think she’d come back if you asked. Really asked. Not as her boss, but as a man who’s in love with her.”
After he leaves, I sit in the silence of my office, staring at the cursor blinking on the screen.
A man who’s in love with her.
I do love her, but love isn’t enough to overcome what I broke, the trust I shattered. The way I showed her, in the moment that mattered most, that I couldn’t choose her over my own fear and pride.
My phone rings, and a quick glance at it tells me it’s my father. I consider not answering, but that will only delay the inevitable.
“Hello?” I answer, trying to sound as uninterested as possible.
“Calvin. I’ve been trying to reach you for a week.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to respond to your own father? The board wants updates. They’re concerned about your extended absence.”
I stare at the pictures on my screen. “Tell the board I’ll return when the project is complete.”
“And when will that be?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know.” His voice is sharp. “Calvin, this is exactly what I was afraid of. Meet me at my office today at four.”
For years, that tone would have worked. Would have made me feel like a disappointing child who needed to fall in line. But something in me has shifted. “No.”
The silence on the other end is profound.
“What did you say?”
“I said no.”
“Your grandmother filled your head with fairy tales, and now you’re wasting your potential chasing ghosts. She did you no favors with those stories.”
The words ignite something in me. Rage, hot and immediate. “Don’t.” My voice is low. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
“Someone has to be honest with you. She coddled you, made you soft, filled you with sentiment that has no place in business. If she’d focused on making you strong instead of telling you bedtime stories?—”
“She made me human,” I interrupt. “She’s the only reason I have any capacity for connection or care or anything beyond the cold, calculating machine you tried to turn me into.”
“That machine built an empire.”
It’s disgusting, the fact that he doesn’t even try to argue how he raised me. It sounds like he’s proud.
