Page 160 of Neap & Spring

They hit my ears, but they don’t make sense. They’re just sounds without meaning.

“What?”

“Your loans, Callum. The ones that have been bleeding you dry.” Her eyes are bright and intense with unshed tears. “John paid them off. All of them.” She gives me a wide smile. “Darling, you’re free.”

I stare at her.

The words are in English. I understand each one individually. But together they don’t make sense.

“That’s not possible.” My voice comes out scratchy. “That’s hundreds of thousands of dollars, Margo. That’s not something you just —”

“It’s done.” She’s still gripping my hand, her fingers tight around mine. “Sloane’s lawyer confirmed it yesterday. The estate processed the payments. Your bank will have the notification by the end of the week, but the debt is already gone. It’s done.”

Gone.

The word echoes in my head.

The debt is gone.

The loans I took out after Sarah cleaned out the accounts — gone.

The fifty percent of my revenue that’s been disappearing every month for two years — gone.

The crushing weight that’s been sitting on my chest since the day I found out what she did — gone.

I pull my hand from Margo’s and stand up, the chair scraping back. My legs feel weak. My hands are shaking.

“I don’t —” I can’t finish the sentence. I can’t even find the words.

For two years, I’ve been drowning. I’ve been working doubles, cutting every corner, and watching every penny. I’ve been staying awake at night doing math that never adds up. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to make it work for one more month, just one more.

And now it’s just … gone.

“Breathe, Callum,” Margo soothes.

I am breathing. I’m taking these huge gulping breaths that feel like the first real air I’ve had in two years.

No more debt payments eating half my profit.

No more investors looking over my shoulder.

No more Brad and Jim and Cameron questioning every decision, threatening to pull funding if I don’t meet their metrics, talking about rebrands and name changes. Flirting with Vivienne!

The restaurant is mine. Actually, fully, completely mine.

I sit back down heavily, my hands coming up to cover my face. And I laugh. It comes out a strangled, half-sob, but it’s a laugh.

“Oh my God,” I murmur into my palms.

“Yeah.” I can hear the smile in Margo’s voice.

I drop my hands, looking at her, still not quite believing it. “Why didn’t anyone tell me sooner?”

“Because it took weeks to process through the estate. And because Sloane wanted to make sure it was real and legal before she got anyone’s hopes up. She is as careful as her dad, that one. A real badass, honestly.” Margo stands, pulling her soaked jacket back on. “But it’s real, Cal. You’re free.”

Free.

The word settles into my chest, and I feel something I haven’t felt in five years.