Chapter 12 - THE FOUR OF US FINALLY SAID WHAT WE WANTED
The confrontation happened in a mediator’s conference room in Midtown.
No chandeliers.
No wedding guests.
No champagne.
Sterling arrived with counsel.
Thatcher did too.
His fingers had healed enough that only one was still taped.
I felt nothing when I saw them.
That surprised me.
Lenora sat beside Daniel.
I sat beside Caroline.
Sterling spoke first.
“This family has been dragged through enough.”
Lenora looked at him.
“You mean people started asking questions.”
“You are destroying thirty-eight years of work.”
“What are you protecting?”
Sterling’s face tightened.
“The company.”
“No.”
Lenora leaned forward.
“You almost drugged me out of my own life for something bigger than a building project. What were you protecting?”
Sterling looked at Thatcher.
That was the answer.
His son.
Thatcher stared at the table.
Sterling spoke more quietly.
“I wasn’t going to let one stupid transaction destroy his future.”
“Then it became two,” Lenora said.
Sterling said nothing.
“Then five. Then you needed my vote. Then my money. Then my silence.”
“I was trying to keep this family together.”
Lenora shook her head.
“You were keeping Thatcher consequence-free.”
Thatcher finally looked up.
“Stop talking about me like I’m twelve.”
I turned toward him.
“Then stop letting your father clean up after you.”
His eyes flashed.
“You broke my hand.”
“You slapped me.”
“You kicked my father.”
“After he knocked your mother down.”
“This is exactly what you do. You make everything simple.”
I almost answered.
Then stopped.
Because he was right about one thing.
Nothing was simple.
“You’re right,” I said.
Thatcher blinked.
“I loved you. Your mother loved you. Your father loves you. And you still chose things that hurt us.”
His expression changed.
“That’s not simple.”
He looked away.
Lenora asked him the question she had clearly been carrying for weeks.
“Did you ever believe I was losing my mind?”
Thatcher’s face collapsed.
“Sometimes.”
Lenora inhaled sharply.
He continued.
“When you were on the pills, yes.”
“You knew why I was on them.”
“I thought Dad was managing it.”
“You picked them up.”
“He said you needed them.”
“And when Dr. Shah questioned it?”
Thatcher said nothing.
Lenora’s voice cracked.
“You wrote that email.”
“I was afraid she’d blow everything up before we fixed Jersey City.”
There.
What Thatcher actually wanted.
Time.
Enough time to restore the money.
Save the project.
Remove his guarantee.
Then perhaps everybody would forgive how they got there.
Sterling wanted legacy.
Thatcher wanted escape.
Lenora wanted autonomy.
I wanted safety.
Four goals.
Only two required other people to surrender their rights.
Sterling finally turned toward Lenora.
“If I admit mistakes were made, can we handle the company privately?”
“No.”
One word.
He looked stunned.
Lenora continued.
“You hit me because I said no privately.”
Sterling lowered his eyes.
Then Thatcher looked at me.
“What do you want from me?”
“A divorce.”
His jaw tightened.
“Besides that.”
“The truth.”
“About what?”
“All of it.”
He stared at his father.
May you like
For the first time, Sterling looked afraid of what his son might say.
That was when I knew their alliance was beginning to break.
