Chapter 7 - The Last Favor
Lauren asked to meet in January.
Her message came through the email address we still used for canceled wedding arrangements.
No accusation.
No demand.
Just a request for half an hour.
I showed it to June.
“Entirely your choice,” she said. “If you go, discuss your personal matters. Refer anything about the dispute to counsel.”
I chose a coffee shop near the courthouse.
Public.
Ordinary.
No sentimental history.
Lauren arrived early.
She looked different without the sharp certainty she used to wear into every room.
“Thank you for coming.”
I sat.
For a few seconds, we examined our drinks.
Then she said, “Northstar terminated my employment.”
“I heard.”
“Simon resigned before the final report.”
I nodded.
She looked at my face.
“You’re not happy.”
“No.”
“People think you wanted to destroy me.”
“Do you?”
Her eyes filled.
“I don’t know what I thought anymore.”
Outside, traffic moved through gray slush.
I waited.
Finally, she took a folded page from her bag.
“It’s an apology.”
I did not reach for it immediately.
She laid it on the table.
“I didn’t copy your signature.”
I felt my shoulders tighten.
“But I knew they were preparing the release,” she continued. “I told Simon you’d agree once I explained it. When the paperwork appeared, I didn’t ask how your signature got there.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
She pressed her lips together.
“Because I wanted the savings to count toward my promotion.”
There was no comforting answer hidden behind it.
No misunderstanding.
Just ambition and permission she had given herself.
“I thought we’d make the money back later,” she said.
“We?”
“I know.”
She wiped her cheek.
“I started talking about your job like it was smaller because I was afraid mine wasn’t as impressive as everyone thought.”
“That didn’t make my work yours to give away.”
“No.”
“And it didn’t make me a prop.”
“No.”
For the first time since the party, she did not argue with what I said.
That made the conversation sadder.
It also made it possible.
We reviewed the remaining wedding deposits and household items.
The ring had already been returned by agreement.
Our attorneys had handled disputed expenses without turning the process into another battlefield.
Then Lauren said, “Could you write a statement saying I never intended to hurt you?”
I leaned back.
There it was.
The last favor.
She saw my expression.
“I’m trying to find work.”
“I won’t tell people something I can’t know.”
“I didn’t intend all this.”
“You intended some of it.”
Her face crumpled.
I hated that I still knew exactly how to comfort her.
I hated more that comforting her had so often required abandoning my own account of what happened.
After a moment, I said, “I can acknowledge that you apologized today. That’s true.”
She nodded through tears.
“Okay.”
We finished the practical details.
At the door, she looked at me.
“Do you think I’m a bad person?”
I considered the question.
“I think you made repeated choices that hurt people. What you do next is yours.”
She looked down.
“I miss you.”
“I know.”
“Do you miss me?”
“Yes.”
Hope moved across her face.
I answered before it could become another misunderstanding.
“I don’t want the relationship back.”
Her eyes closed briefly.
Then she nodded.
We said goodbye.
I sat in my truck afterward and unfolded the apology.
It was imperfect.
There were sentences that still explained too much.
But there were also three I needed to hear.
I knew you were proud of your work.
I used that pride against you.
You did not deserve it.
I read them once.
Then I put the page away.
That evening, I told Hannah about the meeting.
We were eating takeout at her kitchen table.
She listened.
Then she asked, “Do you want advice, distraction, or another spring roll?”
“Spring roll.”
“Excellent. I’m qualified.”
I laughed.
A minute later, she reached across the table.
I took her hand.
There was no speech about being different from Lauren.
No promise that she would never disappoint me.
Just a woman willing to let an honest conversation end without asking me to surrender something.
May you like
It was enough for that evening.
I was beginning to understand that enough could be a very good place to live.
