“A life with Lexi and Evie. A chance to build something real instead of trying to earn love that should have been freely given.” The words came out more harshly than I intended, but they were true.
Dad flinched. “Jonah...”
“If you truly believe Sam isn’t the right choice for the next CEO—and you’re right about that—then here’s my recommendation: Miles Harrington, my CTO. He’s brilliant, dedicated, and has the vision to lead Altika forward. I’ll nominate him to the board.”
After a long moment, Dad nodded slowly. “And someday, when this all blows over, maybe we can talk about bringing you back.”
“No,” I said firmly. “We won’t. I’ve spent too many years trying to earn your approval, Dad. It’s time I stopped waiting foryou to show up as the father I needed and started living for the people who already love me as I am.”
I moved toward the door.
“Jonah, wait.” Dad’s voice cracked behind me.
I stopped, my hand on the doorknob.
“Every time I look at you...” He paused, and I heard him exhale shakily. “I see her face. You have Helen’s eyes, and her expressions.” He took a deep breath. “You’re a constant reminder of my mistake, Jonah. I know it’s not fair to you, but I…I couldn’t separate the two. So I kept my distance from you as much as I could.”
The confession hit me with the suddenness of a punch. For a moment, I felt the weight of all those missed birthdays, the visits that lasted only minutes, and the feeling that I was never quite enough. Now I understood. I was too much of Mom.
I looked at him over my shoulder. His face was pale, crumpled with something that might have been regret.
“I hope it was worth it, Dad,” I said quietly. “Because you just lost your son along with your interim CEO.”
As I walked back through the mansion and out into the Wyoming night, my heart felt lighter than it had in years. The mansion loomed behind me in the darkness, a symbol of everything I was finally ready to leave behind.
Things would never be the same between us again. And for the first time, that felt like freedom.
63
LEXI
Iworked the next few days from home, counting down until my last day there while imagining people at the office whispering about me and Jonah. Stacey and I had daily video calls to keep me updated, and I’d been thrilled when she told me she’d been promoted to manager.
I could see the change in her personality even through the screen once Rafael no longer showed up at work. His mere presence had tormented her, and she’d borne it so silently, that I loved her so much more for her strength. Now she was sparkling and cheerful as we talked, and had an easy smile for everyone on our calls.
To my lack of surprise, by the time Friday came around, Tom Mead from HR emailed me, asking me to come in for a quick meeting in a nearby conference room.
I went in on Friday, and sat down quietly, bracing myself for what was coming. I knew I wouldn’t have a chance of a career here, but would there be references?
“So, Lexi. Here’s the deal,” Tom said, without emotion as he sat down across from me at the table. “You will become a full-time employee, with all the benefits?—”
“Are you serious?” I interrupted.
He smiled, nodding. “Since Rafael left the team, we moved Stacey up to manager, and that freed up another spot for you. Please review the offer letter carefully and let us know if you have any questions.”
I was too stunned to respond to him. After that article came out, I’d lost all hope of a full-time job here. Had Jonah had a hand in this?
He cleared his throat. “The news will reach everyone’s inbox very soon, though. Jonah Walkers is stepping down as CEO.”
My head jerked up at that. “Why?”
He shrugged and smiled at me, standing up with his laptop and other papers. “No one knows. And before you think it,” he said with a nod at me, “it may not be because of you.”
But I knew it was.
Shit. I sat in the conference room for the longest time, staring at my offer letter in my hands, my mind reeling with the news that Jonah would be leaving.
Later that evening, I paced Jonah’s living room, waiting for him to get back home. I had placed the offer letter on the coffee table, pausing my pacing to stare at it in awe every ten minutes.
