Page 118 of Blacklist

“You have no idea what’s going on. You don’t even know who he is.” I let one man slander Sterling in this office before. I won’t do it again.

“And you do?”

“Do you know what’s going to ruin you?” I step toward him to deliver one final blow before I leave him and this house and this life behind. “The same thing that ruined daddy. Your fucking pride. Your arrogance. You can’t see beyond your own shadow because you’re too certain of every move you make.”

“That arrogance built us this company.”

“That arrogance lost us this company and killed our mother,” I explode.

Malcolm gives a disgusted shake of his head. “You’ll never forgive him for that will you?”

“Why would I? He never apologized.” How can he still not understand?

“You’re selfish and spoiled. You never understood sacrificing for the good of the family.”

“I haven’t sacrificed?” I ask softly. Doesn’t he see that being here now is proof that I’ve given up everything for this family? “All I care about is this family. Can you say the same?”

“Why don’t you say what you really mean? I’ve never cared about the right members of this family.” Hate drips from his words as slow and sticky as molasses. It’s in his blood. He was born poisoned with it.

“Felix took care of you and El—”

“I don’t have as liberal of view of who is a MacLaine as you do.”

“I can’t do this anymore.” I shake my head. It’s swimming with all the mistakes we’ve made. Mistakes we keep making. It’s too much. “I can’t just sit by and watch you cling to this lie about what the MacLaine name means. What it stands for.”

“So, you’re going to pick up a hammer and start destroying it yourself?”

“Sometimes it’s better to tear down what’s broken than to waste time fixing what can’t be saved.” I wait for him to respond. When he doesn’t, I walk to the door.

He finds his voice as my hand touches the knob. “If you walk out of this house, don’t come back.”

It’s not the first time I’ve heard that in this room. But it’s going to be the last.

“This was never my house. It’s not yours either. Wear your crown, rule your false empire, but don’t forget that it’s all made of glass.”

* * *

I leave Magnolia Lane, passing by houses that would open their doors for me in a heartbeat. I’m always welcome in Valmont, but everything here has a cost. I’ve been in debt to this place and this life long enough. Later, I might regret leaving with nothing but the Roadster and the bottle of champagne I’d brought home to celebrate my new job.

There’s nothing to celebrate. Now that Trish knows the truth, she won’t want me there. But she’ll feel obligated to keep the boss or scared that I’ll fire her. I never wanted a pity job. I wanted something of my own.

It’s all I’ll ever want.

I drive toward Nashville with no destination in mind. By the time I realize where I’m headed, I’m nearly there. I don’t know why I drove here. It’s like Sterling is a planet and I’m caught in his orbit. I can’t move away from him. I can’t find my own path. Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I should stop fighting it.

I pull into the parking garage at Twelve and South to consider my options. I can check into the Eaton, which would be reasonable. I can call Poppy. Another rational option. I can drive around and pretend that I know where I’m going. Less rational, but still more reasonable than running to him after this morning. I turn off the car anyway.

Don’t let a day be coal, I hear mom saying. Turn it into a diamond.

Maybe that doesn’t just apply to days. Maybe it applies to people, too.

Everything in my body tells me this is the right place to be. I don’t want to trust Sterling. I don’t want to need him. But I can’t deny that he’s the only person who’s ever truly understood me. Maybe that doesn’t make us friends. Maybe some people wouldn’t call that love. It’s the only kind I’ve ever known, and right now, I need someone who sees me.

I’m nearly to the parking garage’s elevator when I remember the card in my purse. I know it’s from him, just like I knew this moment was inevitable when he showed up in the rain at my daddy’s funeral. The crash. The collision. The inescapable force that draws us together time and time again.

In the cement parking garage, the overhead lights flicker as I slip out the card.

Four simple words scrawled in familiar handwriting.