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It was only by reminding herself of that, over and over again, repeating it to herself until she practically heard it repeating in her head without even needing to try, that she could stay sane. Because that was the only way to drown out the urge to go over. To see him. To talk it out.
But there wouldn't be any point in that. There's nothing to talk out. The problem isn't inside her, and it's not inside Philip. It's everything else in the world that's the problem.
It's the world where she can't really let herself be herself, because she'd look too weak. It's the violence of the business world. It's how people look at her when she says she runs a factory. The way they look her up and down, surprised.
If she's going to be able to deal with that, she can't have some man in her life who they can immediately look at and say, oh, he probably does it. She's just there as some kind of figure-head. She's just there as T-and-A.
This was her business, her baby, and she wasn't going to give it up. And if she wasn't going to give it up, then she had to make sacrifices. For her father's legacy. For everything.
If she made those sacrifices now, it would be worth it in the end. She'd get what she needed to get. She just had to hope that she didn't screw it up first. She had to hope that she wasn't going to let her weakness get to her over and over and over again.
This time was a mistake. She could recover from it, but it was a mistake, nonetheless. In the future, though? Could she keep saying the same? Could she keep claiming that even though she knew better, she just made a mistake and she'd do better next time?
No. This had to be it. And she had to walk away.
She picks up the phone. It's going to be a couple more days before they can officially cut the ribbon, but maybe it would be a mistake to stay here. Too many risks. Too much temptation. She wants to stay too much.
So the answer is pretty obvious, in the long run.
Just walk away. Someone else can come on up and finish out the job. She's been neglecting the home factories for too long anyways, in her effort to get things taken care of here. So she'll return to Nevada, she'll check out how things are going back home, and when they're ready to open up the factories, she can come back and make a few speeches, cut the ribbon, and get the hell out of here.
A man's voice answers the phone. Her assistant been staying in Colorado the last couple of days. Her eyes and ears around the home plants. He was supposed to head back to Nevada in a couple days. She'll just take his place, and he'll take hers here.
"I need you to get me a plane ticket."
"Anything else?"
"Not really. Send the information to my email."
"Of course, ma'am."
It's a good plan, really. Truly it is, because if she were to stay here another minute longer, she might have to stay for good.
Leaving is the right thing to do. It's the right way to go. And if it hurts… well, that's fine, too. Because sometimes you have to get hurt in business. If it's the right decision, it really doesn't matter if it hurts or not.
You do it, because the right decision is the right decision, and the success of her business is what the real priority is. Not her feelings, and not avoiding pain. You can't avoid pain in a factory.
It comes for you whether you like it or not. Long hours, hard work. The only thing that the average person who works for her doesn't have to deal with is painful decisions, like the one that she's having to make now.
They don't have to make any decisions at all, except when to go to their boss to report a problem. That's intentional. They work their asses off down there. She's done it before, and no doubt she'll have to do it again at some point, if something goes really wrong.
It's because of how hard they work, because of how much effort it costs them, that she doesn't want them having to make hard choices.
Because God only knows, she's not breaking her back every day, and doing the right thing now is about the hardest thing she's ever had to do.
Chapter Forty-Five
The new place still fits like someone else's clothing. He wakes up every morning to find that he's in someone else's house. The stuff's all in the wrong place. It's not where he left it.
Philip Callahan's been working on routine for so long that it's
strange and a little bit terrifying to have to deal with a new environment. But there's not much other choice.
There was some part of him that had, at one point, thought that the new place was going to be an adventure. A new place to explore. New people to explore it with. New work to be done. New horses raised.
That was a mirage. A fantasy. An illusion, at best.
He woke with the sun and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. They stung badly. He should have been asleep hours earlier, but he hadn't gone to bed until late. Why would he? What would be the point anyways?
