Chapter 9 - The Final Severance
After the board members cleared out in an absolute frenzy of emergency damage control, the massive boardroom became completely silent. The late afternoon sun cast long, amber shadows across the glass walls, overlooking the vast expanse of Lake Michigan.
Nathan sank slowly into his leather chair, burying his face in his hands. His broad shoulders trembled slightly.
"I ruined everything, didn't I?" he whispered into the empty room.
I stood by the window, watching the traffic crawl along Michigan Avenue forty floors below. "You didn't ruin everything today, Nathan. You ruined it six weeks ago when you decided that my loyalty was guaranteed, but Vanessa's approval had to be bought."
He looked up, tears glistening in his eyes. The ruthless, untouchable corporate titan was completely gone. "I was an idiot, Claire. I let my ego get in the way. I thought if I secured the Hart merger, I could give you everything. I wanted to build an empire for us."
"I never asked for an empire," I answered softly, turning to face him. "I asked for a partner. I asked for a husband who wouldn't let another woman touch his arm in public while his wife was forced to eat dinner alone at ten o'clock at night. You let her treat me like a subordinate. And when she threw me to the front desk, you didn't even notice I was missing."
"I love you," he choked out, standing up and taking a hesitant step toward me. "Please. Don't sign the final divorce decree. Take Colebridge. Take my shares. Take whatever you want. Just don't leave me."
"I already took what was mine," I said, offering him a sad, final smile. "The divorce settlement is fair. I'm not taking your company, Nathan. You can keep Colebridge. But you will have to pay Apex Holdings market rate to license my software from now on. You'll run your business, and I'll run mine."
He reached out to touch my hand, but I stepped back, keeping the space between us clean and impenetrable.
May you like
"Goodbye, Nathan."
I turned and walked out of the executive suite, leaving behind the ghost of a marriage that had died long before I ever put on that receptionist badge.
