Chapter 15
Chapter 15: The Empty Pedestal
The weekend stretched out, vast and empty.
Richard had buried himself in his study. He was drinking Scotch—not enough to be drunk, but enough to numb the edges of the betrayal. He was working obsessively, pouring over quarterly reports and acquisition strategies as if building his wealth could fill the sudden void in his chest.
Emma found him there at midnight, the only light coming from the glow of his monitor and the amber liquid in his glass.
She walked in and quietly took the glass from his hand. She set it on the far side of the desk.
"You have a board meeting at eight in the morning," Emma said softly.
Richard leaned back in his leather chair, rubbing his eyes. He suddenly looked very old.
"She took twenty years from me, Emma," he whispered, a rare crack in his iron facade. "Twenty years of a lie."
"She didn't take them," Emma corrected, moving to stand behind his chair and resting her hands on his shoulders. "You bought an illusion, and the contract expired. That’s all it was."
Richard let out a dry, humorless chuckle. He reached up and patted her hand.
"You are too young to be this cynical."
May you like
"I’m just like you," she replied.
It was true. In the absence of Victoria’s manufactured warmth, the house had frozen over. But in that ice, father and daughter had found a new, unbreakable solidarity. They were no longer a family. They were a fortress.
