It’s just easier to leave.
My logical brain was more than happy to pore over all the reasons why falling in love with Clara had been an awful idea.But it was getting harder to believe them the longer our separation dragged on.
Truth was, I just wanted her at my side again.But I didn’t know how to get my fucking brain on board.
Off to the gym it was.I headed to the hotel workout room, pumped some iron, got my sweat on, and then got ready for the day.When I breezed into the office, Archer was waiting for me in the conference room.
“Morning,” he said, glancing up from his laptop screen.“Based on the bags under your eyes, I won’t say it’s good.”
I grunted, slipping into the chair across from him.“It’s a morning.I’ll give you that.What’s on the docket for today?”
Archer tapped at his computer for a few more seconds, then looked over at me again.“You still at the hotel?”
“Yeah, why?”
He shook his head, pushing the laptop aside with a sigh.“How long are you planning to punish Clara like this?”
I laughed humorlessly.“I’m not punishing her.”
“You might not think it’s punishment, but I’ve been in her shoes plenty of times.You’re disappointed by someone, or they don’t live up to expectations, then you book it in the other direction and ice them out.”
"This is different."I crossed my arms, instantly annoyed.Archer didn’t look convinced, and I didn’t care.My phone rang with a call from an unknown number.I almost didn't answer, but a tug of dread in my gut convinced me to swipe the phone on right before it stopped ringing.
"This is Nash.”
"Mr.Nightingale, this is Gerald Whitmore.”I didn’t recognize the caller’s voice, nor his faintly British accent.“I’m calling on behalf of your grandfather's inheritance committee."
“Oh my God,” I muttered, hurrying to switch the call to speaker phone.Archer's head snapped up, reading my expression.
"Mr.Whitmore.”I cleared my throat, straightening my tie as though he could see me.“I wasn't expecting to hear from you directly.I’ve been waiting on a response from the legal team."
"Yes, well, recent information has come to our attention that requires immediate discussion."His voice was clipped, professional.
“My wife and I have been eagerly awaiting a date to meet with you and…whoever else is part of the committee,” I said.“We are ready for the interview.”
He paused for just a tad too long.I locked eyes with Archer across the table, and I saw the same panic there that I felt swirling in me."We won’t be needing an interview.The committee has completed its review of your marriage to Clara Whitehall."
My mouth parted and I struggled to find words.That didn’t seem right.“Well…this is unexpected.Wh-…why…how is this possible?"
“Some information was submitted that voided the necessity of our personal interview process,” he said, still sounding eerily chipper and formal."I'm afraid we've determined that your marriage does not meet the criteria outlined in your grandfather's will.Specifically, the requirement that the marriage be entered into for purposes of love and mutual commitment, not financial gain."
The room tilted."What information?"
"Documentation was submitted to family court regarding your wife's custody case, a marriage contract outlining financial arrangements and terms.The court filing was submitted by a third party and reviewed by the committee."
A third party?What fucking third party?It was too much information to process right now."That contract was submitted as part of Clara's defense—"
"The contents of the contract are quite clear, Mr.Nightingale.This was a marriage of convenience with explicit terms, executed only for financial gain on both your parts.Your grandfather's will specifically excludes such arrangements."He paused, his voice softening only slightly."I'm sorry, but the committee has unanimously voted to deny your petition for inheritance.The funds will be distributed to the alternate beneficiaries as outlined in the will."
Everything went loud and hot inside my body at the same time.I felt like my eyes were about to pop out of my head.For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I blinked.Breathed.Existed.
“There has to be some kind of appeal process…"
"There is not.The committee's decision is final.I'm very sorry, Mr.Nightingale.I know your grandfather had high hopes for you after an unfortunate separation throughout your childhood.We wish you the best."
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone on the conference table, unable to move.I wasn’t sure if thirty seconds or thirty minutes passed.
