Chương 7
The interview started fifteen minutes later.
The reporter was polite.
Too polite, Alexandra thought.
The kind of polite that meant every question had already been planned.
“Your company’s valuation surprised a lot of people,” the reporter said.
Alexandra smiled.
“I think it surprised some people.”
“You expected this?”
“No.”
The reporter laughed.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Even after years of growth?”
Alexandra looked at the notes in front of her.
“Growth doesn’t always feel like growth when you’re responsible for keeping everything alive.”
The reporter paused.
That was not the answer she expected.
“You founded Horizon Vale Studios when you were twenty-six.”
“Yes.”
“And during those years, many people underestimated the company.”
“They did.”
“Why do you think that happened?”
Alexandra looked out the window.
Because people had judged her apartment.
Her clothes.
Her age.
Her quiet personality.
Because she did not look like the person they expected.
But she did not say that.
Instead, she answered carefully.
“I think people are comfortable recognizing success after it becomes obvious.”
“And before that?”
“Before that, people usually recognize risk.”
The reporter wrote something down.
“You kept the company private for years.”
“Yes.”
“Some critics are asking why.”
Alexandra knew that question was coming.
“Critics?”
“Some people believe transparency would have created more confidence.”
She smiled slightly.
“Confidence from who?”
The reporter looked surprised.
“Investors.”
“Some investors.”
Alexandra folded her hands.
“I think there is a difference between being transparent and inviting everyone to judge every unfinished part of something.”
The reporter nodded.
“But some people argue that if the company had been more public, your success would have come sooner.”
“Maybe.”
The answer surprised her.
She continued.
“Maybe it would have.”
She looked down briefly.
“But maybe I would have spent more time trying to convince people we were legitimate instead of building something legitimate.”
That sentence appeared in the article later.
Alexandra would read it several times.
Not because she loved it.
Because it sounded more confident than she had felt.
The interview continued for another forty minutes.
When it ended, she expected relief.
Instead, she felt exposed.
Not because she had revealed too much.
Because she had revealed enough.
That was always the strange part.
The world wanted the truth.
Until the truth was complicated.
That evening, Alexandra returned to her apartment.
The place was smaller than her office.
Much smaller.
She still had the same couch from before the company succeeded.
The same coffee table.
The same lamp she bought from a discount store because she needed light but did not have money for anything better.
People often asked why she had not upgraded everything.
She never knew how to explain that objects did not become more valuable just because other people finally valued her.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Marcus.
She stared at it.
For several seconds, she considered ignoring it.
Not because she hated him.
Because she did not know what version of the conversation would come next.
She opened it.
Can we talk?
Three words.
No apology.
No explanation.
Just a request.
She placed the phone down.
Then picked it up again.
She typed.
Sure.
A minute later, another message arrived.
Tomorrow?
She agreed.
The next afternoon, they met at a coffee shop near Marcus’s office.
Not a restaurant.
Not somewhere personal.
Neutral ground.
That felt very Marcus.
He was already there when she arrived.
He looked tired.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
She sat across from him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The barista called someone else’s name.
A child laughed near the window.
A man typed aggressively on a laptop.
The world continued while two people struggled to say something important.
“I read the interviews,” Marcus said.
Alexandra nodded.
“I figured.”
“You made me sound better than I was.”
She looked at him.
That was not what she expected.
“What?”
“The way you talked about people who doubted you.”
He looked down.
“You didn’t make me sound like a villain.”
Alexandra was quiet.
“Were you expecting me to?”
He gave a small, uncomfortable laugh.
“Maybe.”
She studied him.
Marcus had always been confident when he was certain.
Now he was uncertain.
And uncertainty looked strangely human on him.
“I was unfair,” he said.
Alexandra did not rush to answer.
“I was.”
He rubbed his hand over his coffee cup.
“I thought I was giving you advice.”
“You were.”
“I thought you needed someone to tell you the truth.”
Alexandra looked at him.
“And?”
He swallowed.
“And I assumed I was the only one who could see it.”
The honesty surprised her.
She looked away.
That was the part she had not expected.
Not the apology.
The awareness.
People rarely changed because they were embarrassed.
Usually they changed because something forced them to look at themselves differently.
“I’m sorry,” Marcus said.
The words came quietly.
No performance.
No explanation afterward.
Just the words.
Alexandra believed he meant them.
That did not erase anything.
She wanted him to understand that.
“I appreciate that.”
Marcus nodded.
“But?”
She looked at him.
“There is a lot between being wrong and being forgiven.”
He accepted that.
More easily than she expected.
“I know.”
They sat there.
Not healed.
Not broken.
Something in between.
A place where two people could finally stop pretending the past had not happened.
After a few minutes, Marcus said, “Jennifer told me something.”
“What?”
“That you almost quit.”
Alexandra looked down.
“Several times.”
He nodded.
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
The answer hurt him.
She could see it.
“I thought you were hiding success.”
Alexandra looked at him.
“I was hiding struggle.”
Marcus looked out the window.
“I guess those are easier to confuse than I thought.”
Alexandra said nothing.
Because that was the closest thing to understanding she had heard from him.
Not an excuse.
Not a defense.
Just an acknowledgment.
When they left the coffee shop, Marcus stopped beside his car.
“I don’t know if I can fix this quickly.”
Alexandra nodded.
“Neither can I.”
May you like
He looked relieved.
Maybe because she had not asked him to become someone else overnight.
