Chapter 7
The next few weeks were a whirlwind.
The story of the wedding scandal had spread like wildfire through Chicago's social circles. Every newspaper, every gossip column, every social media feed was talking about the Montgomery wedding that turned into a family reunion.
But something unexpected happened.
People weren't just talking about the scandal. They were talking about me.
They were talking about the woman who had built a billion-dollar company from nothing while raising triplets alone. They were talking about the mother who had protected her children from a powerful, ruthless family. They were talking about strength and resilience and what it meant to fight for the people you love.
My company's value skyrocketed.
Clients who would never have returned my calls before were now begging to work with me. I was invited to speak at conferences, interviewed by major news outlets, offered book deals.
But more importantly, Ethan was a constant presence in our lives.
He came over for dinner twice a week. He attended every soccer game, every school play, every parent-teacher conference. He learned which boy was allergic to strawberries, which one needed a nightlight, which one liked to sleep with the window open even in winter.
He was becoming a father.
And I was beginning to realize that I was no longer angry at him—not really. I was angry at the situation, at Eleanor, at the five years we had lost. But Ethan? He was trying. He was showing up. He was learning.
One evening, after the boys were asleep, we sat on my porch swing drinking coffee. The city lights sparkled in the distance.
"Caroline called off the engagement," Ethan said quietly.
I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say.
"Her father gave the family an ultimatum," he continued. "Cut ties with me publicly, or lose every political connection he has. My father is furious. He won't speak to me."
He looked at me.
"But I don't care. None of it matters compared to those boys inside. Compared to… this."
He gestured between us.
My heart did a strange little flip.
"Ethan," I said carefully. "We need to be realistic. We have a lot of history. A lot of pain. We can't just—"
"I'm not asking you to marry me again," he said, cutting me off gently. "I'm not even asking you to forgive me. Not yet. I'm just asking for a chance to be in your life. To be the man you deserved five years ago. To show you that I'm not the weak, scared boy who let his mother dictate his life."
He reached across the space between us and took my hand. This time, I didn't pull away.
"I love those boys more than anything," he said. "And I never stopped loving you."
The words hung in the warm summer air.
I looked at him—really looked at him—and I saw the man I had fallen in love with. The man who used to leave me little notes in my sketchbook, who would dance with me in the kitchen at two in the morning, who had once driven three hours in the rain just to bring me my favorite soup when I was sick.
That man was still there, buried under years of guilt and regret and his mother's manipulation.
And he was digging his way out.
Before I could respond, my phone rang.
It was my lawyer.
"Eleanor just filed a lawsuit," she said without preamble. "She's claiming you defrauded the Montgomery family, that you forged the recording, that the boys aren't even Ethan's. She's demanding full custody and half your company."
I felt Ethan's hand tighten around mine.
"She's also holding a press conference tomorrow morning," my lawyer continued. "She's going to try to paint you as a con artist who manipulated Ethan and stole from the family. We need to act fast."
I looked at Ethan.
May you like
He was already reaching for his phone.
"Not if I speak first," he said.
