Chapter 8 - The Apology at the Cafe
One year after the arrest in the boardroom, I was sitting on the outdoor terrace of an artisan bakery in downtown Chicago, reviewing quarterly revenue projections on my tablet.
A timid, hesitant voice broke my concentration.
"Brooke...?"
I looked up.
Standing beside my table was Stephanie.
She looked entirely worn down. Her once-glamorous designer clothes were gone, replaced by a faded retail uniform; her blonde hair was pulled into a tired ponytail, and dark circles shadowed her eyes.
"May I... may I sit down for two minutes?" Stephanie pleaded, her hands trembling around her purse straps.
I closed my tablet with calm, measured grace. "You have sixty seconds, Stephanie."
Stephanie sank into the edge of the metal chair, tears immediately spilling down her cheeks. "Brooke... I have spent every single day of the last year hating myself. Calvin lied to me. He used me. He promised me the world, and he destroyed my life... I know I don't deserve it, but please... can you ever forgive me? We were sisters for twelve years."
I looked at the woman who had smirked behind my husband’s shoulder the night my marriage ended.
"You didn't betray me because Calvin lied to you, Stephanie," I said, my voice quiet, level, and completely free of malice. "You betrayed me because you believed you were entitled to take what I built. You thought loyalty was something you could throw away the moment you saw a shiny prize."
"Brooke, please—I have nothing left!" she wept.
May you like
"Then build something of your own, Stephanie," I replied softly, picking up my tablet and standing up from the table. "I hold no anger toward you. But you will never have a place in my life again."
I placed a ten-dollar bill on the table to cover the tea, turned, and walked away into the morning sunshine, leaving the past permanently behind me.
