“I panicked,” she said, cutting me off. “When I saw the numbers and heard the offer, all I could think about was security. About never being afraid again. I told myself it was for the family.” She let out a hollow-sounding laugh. “Isn’t that always the excuse? We do what we do because we think we know what’s best for the family.”
“You voted yes, Mom,” I said lamely, closing my eyes. I pulled in a deep, calming breath. “You voted for the end of the Thayer name in the business world, which is the world your kids are still living in. The world three of your four sons have spent the last few years studying to become a part of.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I saw your face when it happened, Jane. I watched you walk out of that room like something had been ripped out of you.”
I heard her take a step closer. “I betrayed you. After everything you’ve done and all the years you held us together while I fell apart, I thought this would put you back together. If I could stop leaning on you?—”
I shook my head, emotion rising fast and sharp. “You didn’t trust me. You still don’t. That’s what hurts.”
“I do,” she said quickly. “I didn’t trust myself to be able provide any other way, but instead of admitting that, I took the easy way out.”
Silence fell between us until she spoke again, her voice shaky and her words spaced a beat too far apart, like she was thinking through each one and uncertain of what to say next. “I was wrong, honey. I don’t expect forgiveness, but I needed you to hear it. I was so worried about you and how hard you were working that I thought it would be better for you to just relax and let Alex take care of you in all the ways I should have, butcouldn’t. I didn’t realize until it was too late that you’re not like me.”
My throat burned as I finally spun around to face her. “I needed you to believe in me, Mom. You’ve always known that I’m not like you. I just needed you to believe that I knew what I was doing.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I do believe in you, Janey. I’ve realized that I was wrong and that you’re so much stronger than me. I’m sorry that I only realized it when it was too late, but I know now that you want to be part of fixing our family’s company. Our legacy. You might be a Westwood now, but you’re too strong to give up on Thayer.”
I let out a breath I felt like I’d been holding for years. “I don’t know what this looks like going forward. Our relationship.”
“I’ll take whatever you give me,” she said. “I just don’t want to lose you.”
I hesitated but then nodded once. “We’ll figure it out, but not now. We need to get back out there. Alex is trying to fix what we broke. We have to be there if he needs us.”
It wasn’t absolution, but it was something. The truth of the matter was that I could see the sincerity of her apology in her eyes, and while I got where she was coming from, I needed time to be able to forgive her. Time we didn’t have today.
As we stepped back out, the boardroom door down the hall opened. My heart slammed into my ribs as Alex stepped out, flanked by Nate and a small army of lawyers. He looked composed, calm even, but I knew him well enough now to see the tension in his shoulders and the sharp focus in his gaze.
Whatever had happened, it still wasn’t over. Mom squeezed my hand and inclined her chin toward my husband. “Go to him. I’ll be back.”
She walked past me toward the boardroom with her spine straight and her face set with purpose. I stayed where I was,watching my husband walk toward me and knowing everything was about to change—one way or another.
We were back to where I’d started the day, outside the boardroom, pacing like our collective anxiety might somehow influence the outcome inside. Only this time, it wasn’t just Colin and me.
It was all of us.
Alex came to a standstill beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat of him through his suit jacket, one hand tucked into his pocket and the other resting lightly at my back like a steadying weight.
“I can’t vote on this,” he said, maddeningly calm for someone who had just wagered close to a billion dollars on my future. “Neither can Sterling. It’s a conflict of interest.”
Sterling leaned against the wall a few feet away, his phone in his hand, but he wasn’t actually looking at it. Colin hovered near the window with his jaw set so tight, I worried he might crack a tooth.
“What does that mean?” I asked quietly, glancing up at Alex’s profile and noticing the knot at the back of his jaw. “If you guys can’t vote…”
“Norahastovote in our favor,” he finished honestly. “But even if she does, we need a full majority to swing this. Her vote alone won’t be enough.”
I searched his face for doubt or fear, but there was none. All I saw was anticipation and urgency, a need for this to be done and to get to work. He glanced down at me, the expression in those green eyes so steady and sure that looking at him made me feel like I’d had a warm, comforting blanket wrapped around my shoulders.
“Our offer is sound,” he said. “They’d be idiots to turn it down.”
I so badly wanted his certainty, to crawl inside it and hide until the vote was over, but I couldn’t, so I just slid my hand into his and waited. Time seemed to do strange things in that hallway, minutes stretching and warping. Every sound felt amplified, from the hum of the lights, to the distant ding of an elevator, and Colin’s foot tapping against the floor until I shot him a look and he stopped.
Alex leaned down when my brother’s incessant tapping cut off, looking deep into my eyes as he murmured, “Are you okay?”
“I think so,” I lied.
He squeezed my hand but didn’t say anything else, just staying by my side like he’d never leave. That was becoming my favorite thing about him, not the grand gestures or the scorched-earth devotion, but the way he knew when to fill the silence and when to let it be.
When the door finally opened and Mom stepped out, everything in me went still. She didn’t smile right away, her face a mask of composure. For half a second, I was back in my childhood, trying to decipher her moods like it was a survival skill, but after taking in a deep breath, she looked at me and smiled.