Chương 8
But another part of me appreciated that he did not.
I had made choices.
I had ignored discomfort.
I had believed explanations because I wanted the person giving them to be good.
That was not stupidity.
But it was something I needed to understand.
The attorney sent another message thirty minutes later.
A secure folder was attached.
My father opened it on his laptop.
The first documents were harmless.
Business plans.
Investor updates.
Financial reports.
Then we reached a section labeled market strategy.
My eyes moved over the pages.
At first, nothing stood out.
Then I saw a phrase.
A phrase I remembered.
"Strategic expansion through underserved international markets."
I frowned.
"I know that."
My father looked at me.
"Where?"
"Dominic said that during our anniversary dinner."
I leaned closer.
"He told me that was his idea."
My father clicked through the document history.
The file metadata appeared.
Created before our anniversary.
My stomach dropped.
"That does not prove anything," my father said.
I nodded.
I knew that.
But it was another piece.
Another uncomfortable piece.
The attorney called.
My father answered on speaker.
"Charles."
"Daniel."
The attorney's voice was serious.
"We need to be careful with conclusions."
My father nodded.
"Understood."
"There are similarities between Dominic's later business plans and information from confidential discussions connected to Brooks Ventures."
My hands went cold.
"How serious?"
A pause.
"Serious enough that we need to investigate."
My father looked at me.
"Can you prove he received the information?"
"Not yet."
That word mattered.
Not yet.
Not no.
The call ended.
I sat quietly.
The room felt different.
Not because I suddenly knew Dominic had betrayed me.
Because I realized I had been asking the wrong question.
I had been asking whether he loved me.
Maybe the harder question was whether he respected me.
The next day, Dominic requested a meeting.
This time, I agreed.
Not because I missed him.
Because I needed answers.
We met at a quiet restaurant near his office.
Not somewhere romantic.
Not somewhere with memories.
A place where two strangers could discuss a difficult business arrangement.
That felt appropriate.
Dominic arrived early.
He looked different.
Older.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Like the past few days had removed the confidence he wore like armor.
"I appreciate you meeting me."
I sat down.
"Do you?"
He looked at me.
"What?"
"Do you appreciate it?
Or are you relieved because you think this means you still have a chance?"
He looked down.
"Both."
At least he did not lie.
The waiter came.
Neither of us ordered.
"I heard your attorney contacted you."
I studied him.
"How?"
His silence answered.
"Dominic."
He rubbed his face.
"I have people too."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I know what is happening."
I nodded slowly.
"So you know about the documents."
"Yes."
"And?"
He looked exhausted.
"And I know how bad it looks."
I almost smiled.
"That is your first concern?"
"No."
His answer was immediate.
"My first concern is that you think I never loved you."
I looked at him.
"Did you?"
The question hung between us.
For the first time, Dominic did not rush to answer.
"I did."
Past tense.
The small difference hurt.
"I do."
He corrected himself.
But the hesitation remained.
"Then why did you hide so much?"
His jaw tightened.
"Because I was ashamed."
"Of what?"
"Of needing help."
I stared at him.
"Dominic."
"I know how it sounds."
"It sounds like you are making yourself the victim."
He looked away.
"Maybe I am."
That admission surprised me.
"I spent my whole life trying to prove I belonged in rooms where people like your father were already respected."
He swallowed.
"When I found out who you were, I thought everything I built would disappear."
I listened.
Not because I forgave him.
Because I wanted to understand.
"But I did not use you," he said.
I held his gaze.
"Then explain the documents."
His face changed.
And for the first time since we sat down, he looked afraid.
Not of losing his company.
Not of losing his reputation.
Afraid of what I would see.
"I made mistakes."
"What kind?"
He looked at his hands.
"The kind I thought I could fix later."
The answer was familiar.
Too familiar.
The same belief that had left me outside the hospital.
The same belief that apologies could arrive after damage was done.
"How many times?" I asked.
He did not answer.
And that silence told me there were more than one.
"I need to know the rest," I said.
Dominic looked at me for a long time.
Then he nodded.
"I know."
For once, he did not try to control the conversation.
He did not interrupt.
He did not explain before I finished asking.
Maybe because he finally understood that explanations were not the same thing as answers.
"I made mistakes after the first investment," he said.
The restaurant noise continued around us.
Forks touching plates.
People laughing at nearby tables.
A server asking someone if they wanted dessert.
It felt strange that everyone else was living ordinary lives while mine was being divided into before and after.
"I thought I could separate everything," Dominic continued.
"Your family.
My company.
Our marriage."
I watched him.
"And you couldn't."
"No."
The honesty was painful.
"What did you use?"
His fingers tightened around his glass.
"Information."
"What information?"
"Market conversations.
Things you mentioned about your father's opinions.
Things I learned from being around you."
I felt my chest tighten.
"I never gave you confidential information."
"I know."
"Then how?"
He looked ashamed.
"Because I paid attention."
The answer made me colder than an excuse would have.
"You listened to me as a wife and used what you heard as a businessman."
His eyes closed.
"Yes."
There was no defense left.
No clever argument.
Just the truth.
I looked away.
I had spent years believing that being loved meant being known.
May you like
Now I was facing the possibility that being known had also made me vulnerable.
"I did not take anything that was protected," he said quietly.
