Chapter 9
The world stopped.
Derek was dead.
The man who had been my husband for eight years.
The man who had loved me, then betrayed me, then tried to destroy me.
Gone.
Just like that.
No trial.
No prison.
No apology.
Just a single bullet in a lonely cabin in the mountains.
I felt my father’s arm around me.
I felt Julian’s hand on my shoulder.
But I couldn’t feel anything else.
I was numb.
***
The next few days were a blur.
The FBI finished their investigation.
The medical examiner did his job.
The press swarmed like vultures.
**DEREK CALLAHAN DEAD AT 38: DISGRACED CEO TAKES OWN LIFE IN MOUNTAIN CABIN**
The headlines were everywhere.
Everyone had an opinion.
Some said Derek was a monster who got what he deserved.
Some said he was a tragic figure brought down by his own ambition.
Some even tried to blame me—said I had pushed him too far, said a good wife would have stood by her man no matter what.
I didn’t care.
I had stopped caring what strangers thought.
The funeral was small.
Derek’s half-brother Jimmie came.
A few old friends from before the money.
No one from the business world.
No one from the life Derek had built on lies.
I went.
Not because I missed him.
Not because I felt guilty.
But because I needed to see the box lowered into the ground.
I needed to know it was real.
I needed to know he was never coming back.
Jimmie approached me after the service.
He was a big man with rough hands and a kind face. Nothing like Derek.
“Mrs. Callahan,” he said. “Clara. I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry. For everything. My brother… he had demons. Even when we were kids. He always thought the world owed him something. He never could just be happy with what he had.”
He paused.
“He told me once, a long time ago, that you were the best thing that ever happened to him. Said he didn’t deserve you. I guess he was right about that, anyway.”
He held out an envelope.
“He left this for you. At my place. The night everything went down. He said if anything happened to him, I should make sure you got it. Said it was important.”
I took the envelope.
It was plain.
My name was scrawled across the front in Derek’s messy handwriting.
“Thank you, Jimmie,” I said.
He nodded and walked away.
I got in my car.
I didn’t open the envelope.
I couldn’t.
Not yet.
***
Life went back to normal.
Or at least, the new normal.
I was still the CEO of Callahan Logistics.
Vincent was still COO.
Helen was still General Counsel.
Arthur was still there, watching over everything.
And Julian—Julian had become my personal attorney. And something more.
Not a romance.
Not yet.
But a partnership.
A deep, unshakable trust.
He had been there through the worst of it.
He had my back.
Always.
A month after Derek’s death, the company was thriving.
Vincent had replaced the entire delivery fleet. The new trucks were on the road, breaking down less, delivering faster. Customer satisfaction was up twenty percent.
The new dispatch software was installed. Routes were optimized. Fuel costs were down fifteen percent.
We had expanded into North Carolina and Tennessee—carefully, profitably, the way Derek should have done it.
Profits were at an all-time high.
The employees were happy.
The board was happy.
My father was happy.
And me?
I was… okay.
Not great.
Not perfect.
But okay.
I had sold the big house in the suburbs—the house where Derek had hit me, where Sloane had sat in my chair. I bought a smaller place in the city—modern, bright, mine. No ghosts. No memories.
I was learning to be alone.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t mind it.
***
Two months to the day after Derek died, I finally opened the envelope.
I was sitting in my new living room.
A glass of wine on the table beside me.
The envelope was still sealed.
I took a deep breath.
I tore it open.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
Derek’s handwriting.
*Clara,*
*If you’re reading this, I’m dead. Which means I lost. Which means you won. Congratulations.*
*I’ve been sitting in this cabin for three days. Just me and my thoughts. And for the first time in my life, I’ve been honest with myself. About everything.*
*I was never good enough for you. Not really. I knew it the day I met you. You were this bright, beautiful, perfect girl from a perfect family. And I was just the kid from the wrong side of the tracks with a dream and nothing else.*
*Your father saw it immediately. He knew I didn’t belong. He knew I’d never be able to handle what he was giving me. And he was right.*
*I should have been grateful. I should have spent every day of my life proving I was worthy of you. Instead, I resented you. Resented your father. Resented the fact that none of it was really mine. That I was just playing a role.*
*So I destroyed it. All of it. The company. The marriage. Us. Because if I couldn’t have it all on my own terms, I didn’t want it at all.*
*Sloane was never about love. She was about control. With you, I always felt like I was looking up. With her, I was the one on top. She made me feel powerful. Even though I knew—deep down—that she only wanted me for the money.*
*I’m sorry I hit you. I’m sorry I tried to lock you away. I’m sorry I planned to kill you. There’s no excuse for any of it. I was weak. I was angry. I was a coward.*
*You were right about everything. I was never the self-made man I pretended to be. I was just a boy who got lucky, then threw it all away because he was too stupid and too proud to say thank you.*
*The company is yours now. Truly yours. Not the trust. Not your father. You. And I know you’ll run it better than I ever did. You’re smarter than me. Stronger than me. You always were.*
*I left something for you. In the cabin. Behind the loose brick in the fireplace. It’s the rest of the money. All of it. Twelve million dollars in bearer bonds. I was going to use it to disappear. To start over. But it’s yours now. You earned it. God knows you paid enough for it.*
*Don’t cry for me, Clara. Don’t feel guilty. Don’t waste a single second of your life wondering if you could have done something different. You couldn’t have. I was broken long before I met you. And I was always going to break everything I touched.*
*Live a good life. Be happy. Find someone who deserves you. Someone who loves you for who you are, not for what you have. Someone who will never, ever hurt you.*
*You’re free now, Clara. Finally free. Don’t let my memory be the chain that keeps you from flying.*
*—Derek*
I read the letter twice.
Then I folded it carefully.
I put it back in the envelope.
I didn’t cry.
I didn’t feel guilty.
I felt… released.
The letter wasn’t an apology, not really.
It was an explanation.
And for the first time, I understood.
Derek had never hated me.
He had hated himself.
And he had destroyed us both because he couldn’t stand the sight of his own reflection in my eyes.
I stood up.
I walked to the fireplace in my new living room.
I struck a match.
I burned the letter.
I watched the paper curl and blacken and turn to ash.
When it was gone, I poured myself another glass of wine.
I walked to the window.
The city was spread out below me.
Thousands of lights.
Thousands of lives.
And somewhere out there was mine.
Waiting.
***
The next morning, I called Julian.
“Hey,” I said. “I need a favor.”
“Anything,” he said.
“Can you meet me at Derek’s cabin? The one in the mountains. There’s something I need to get. Something Derek left behind.”
May you like
“Sure,” he said. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s perfect,” I said. “I’ll see you in an hour.”
