reputation recovery
Six months ago, this presentation would’ve felt like oxygen.
Now?
All I can picture is Jillie’s little skates beside Sadie’s front door.
Snow-covered Briar Cove streets glowing beneath Christmas lights.
Bakery mornings.
Sadie laughing with flour on her cheek while pretending not to smile at me.
The executives keep talking. I barely hear them anymore, because suddenly I understand something devastatingly simple.
I don’t want more fame. I want peace. I want family.
The realization settles quietly but completely inside my chest.
One executive slides the trade packet toward me. “This is your chance to reset everything.”
I look down at the paperwork, then out through the glass toward the empty arena seats.
Thousands of them.
All those years chasing noise. And somehow the only place I can breathe lately is a tiny bakery in Briar Cove.
Marcus notices my expression first. “Colby,” he says carefully, “talk to us.”
I finally look back at them. And for the first time in years, the answer feels obvious.
“I’m staying.”
Silence.
One executive blinks. “With Frostholm?”
“Yes.”
Marcus stares at me like I’ve announced plans to join a traveling circus.
“You’re turning down New York?”
I think about Sadie hearing part of that phone call yesterday. The hurt on her face. The resignation. Like she already expected me to leave eventually.
And suddenly the idea physically hurts.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “I am.”
***
Two hours later, the media room explodes.
Apparently, somebody leaked trade discussions before management finalized anything, so reporters crowd the arena expecting a dramatic announcement.
Flashbulbs pop nonstop as I sit beside the Frostholm GM at the long press table.
