“I was protecting myself.”
He looked down.
“And our sons.”
Silence.
Then he whispered:
“I didn’t think you’d remember the ownership agreement.”
I felt my chest tighten.
I looked at him.
“Julian, I signed it.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
I continued.
“I helped negotiate it.”
He looked away.
“I know.”
I swallowed.
“Then why did you tell the court I had nothing?”
His eyes filled with tears.
He stared at the table.
Then whispered:
“Because I thought you’d be too afraid to challenge me.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak.
Then I nodded slowly.
“Thank you.”
He looked up.
“For what?”
“For finally telling me the truth.”
He began crying.
“Meridian…”
I stood.
He reached toward me.
Then stopped.
“Do you think we could ever start over?”
I looked at him.
For twelve years, I’d loved this man.
I’d believed in his dreams.
Helped build his company.
Raised our children.
