Chapter 9 - The Departure
Malcolm’s breathing became heavier.
“This is my company.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
He pointed at the screen.
“That company exists because of me.”
I answered quietly.
“It exists despite you.”
The room went still.
Malcolm stepped toward me.
His voice dropped.
“You think you won?”
I looked at him.
“No.”
I removed my wedding ring.
The gold band had been on my finger for twelve years.
I placed it on the podium.
“I think I finally stopped losing.”
He stared at the ring.
Something changed in his expression.
For the first time that night, he looked less like a powerful man and more like a man who had just realized what he had thrown away.
“Naen…”
I walked past him.
He reached for my wrist.
I stopped.
The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
“Don’t.”
He released me.
I looked at him one last time.
“You whispered that I was nothing.”
His eyes were wet now.
“I didn’t mean it.”
“You did.”
“I was angry.”
“You meant it.”
“Naen—”
“You just forgot who you were speaking to.”
I walked away.
Behind me, Malcolm’s world began collapsing in public.
Board members surrounded Arthur.
Mara started answering questions.
Vivian was crying, furious rather than heartbroken.
Gwendolyn stood alone near the stage, staring at the wedding ring.
Reese had lowered her phone.
For once, there was nothing she wanted to post.
I reached the ballroom doors.
Then I heard footsteps.
“Naen!”
I stopped.
Gwendolyn was behind me.
I turned.
She looked older than she had an hour earlier.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I almost smiled.
“Would you have believed me?”
She didn’t answer.
That was enough.
“I thought you were destroying my son,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“I thought you were taking his money.”
“I know.”
“I thought…”
Her voice broke.
“I was wrong.”
I looked at her.
She swallowed.
“I’m sorry.”
For a second, I wanted to say something sharp.
Something that would make her feel the weight of every insult.
But I was tired.
Not physically.
Something deeper.
“I hope one day,” I said, “you learn that silence doesn’t mean weakness.”
She nodded slowly.
Then she stepped aside.
I left.
Outside, rain covered the pavement in silver.
A black car waited at the curb.
Not Malcolm’s.
Mine.
I sat in the back seat.
The driver closed the door.
The city blurred beyond the glass.
I looked down at my hand.
The place where the wedding ring had been felt strangely light.
My phone vibrated.
One message.
From Malcolm.
Please come home. We need to talk.
I deleted it.
Another appeared.
I never wanted this to happen.
Deleted.
Another.
I love you.
I stared at that one for several seconds.
Then I deleted it too.
The car moved through the rain.
May you like
For the first time in twelve years, I wasn’t going home to Malcolm.
I was going home to myself.
