Tom's head jerked up. His father stood in the doorway.
"Dad." Tom didn't stand. Didn't smile. Couldn't summon the energy to perform for him anymore.
Richard stepped into the office, his gaze sweeping over Tom's desk with that assessing look Tom had spent his whole life trying to earn approval from.
"We missed you at Thursday’s dinner," Richard said.
"I was busy."
"Your mother was disappointed."
Tom turned back to his monitor, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. "I'm sure she'll survive."
Another beat of evaluating silence.
“Youwillbe there next Thursday?” Richard asked, voice deceptively mild—his mother’s question hidden inside it.
Tom exhaled through his nose. “Yes. I’ll be there.”
“Good. And… I take it Lauren won’t be joining us.”
Tom’s throat closed. He swallowed once, hard. Richard waited.
Tom stared at the plans on the screen until the lines blurred. “We’re… we’re still—” His voice cut off. He couldn’t say “separated”. Wouldn’t say it. The word was a cliff he couldn’t step over. “She just won’t be there.”
Then his father moved closer, looking at the plans on the screen. "The Kent project?"
"No." Tom's voice came out rougher than he intended. "My house. Lauren’s house.”
Richard made a small sound of disapproval. "Are you planning renovations?"
"An addition." Tom's hands curled into fists on the desk. "A studio for Lauren. Proper space for her work."
Richard's expression tightened. "Thomas?—"
“I let her down,” Tom felt shame and self-loathing spill over him. “I didn’t support her.”
The words tasted like bile.
"And now I’ve lost her,” Tom continued, his voice breaking. "And I don't know if she’ll ever forgive me. But I'm going to design her this studio anyway. Because she deserves it. Because I should have done it properly from the start."
Silence stretched between them.
"It won't be enough,” Tom said quietly. The truth of it settled in his chest like concrete. "I broke her heart. I can't fix that with square footage." But it would be something.
Room to spread out. Room to create. Room to be exactly who she was without apologizing for taking up space.
This was how he should have designed their house from the beginning. With Lauren at the center of it instead of tucked away where no one would see.
She deserved space and light and room to create without having to hide.
Even if she never came back to him—even if she took off his ring and started a new life without him—he was going to build this for her.
Because loving her meant celebrating who she was. Not trying to change her into someone more acceptable.
He should have known that all along.
Tom sat back in his chair, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.
