Chapter 9 - Sloan’s Final Secret
One month before our rescheduled wedding, Maya called.
“I have something.”
“What kind of something?”
“The kind you’ll hate.”
Sloan’s attorneys had released records connected to her divorce from Cole.
Among them was an email exchange between Sloan and a tabloid editor.
Months before my divorce.
She had been selling stories.
About me.
My pregnancy.
My “instability.”
My marriage.
Even the report that I had “begged Cole not to leave.”
A lie.
Then something worse.
She had leaked the date and location of my divorce signing.
That was why photographers waited outside.
She orchestrated my humiliation as part of building her own public narrative.
I read the emails once.
Then closed the laptop.
Maya stared.
“That’s it?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing. I’m just surprised.”
“Five years ago I would have wanted to destroy her.”
“And now?”
“I have three children upstairs arguing over pajamas.”
I smiled.
“I’m tired.”
We pursued only the privacy claims affecting the children.
Nothing else.
Sloan issued a public apology as part of settlement.
I barely read it.
That was freedom.
Not winning.
Not punishing.
Not proving.
Indifference.
Two weeks later, Sloan contacted me directly.
I almost ignored her.
Then answered.
“What?”
Her voice sounded smaller.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“You already issued a statement.”
“That was lawyers.”
Silence.
“I hated you,” she said.
“I know.”
“I thought if Cole married me, I won.”
I looked out the window.
“And?”
“I didn’t.”
“No.”
She cried.
“I lost a baby.”
My anger softened.
“I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t expect you to say that.”
“You losing a child doesn’t become less terrible because you hurt me.”
She sobbed.
For several minutes, I listened.
Then said, “I forgive you.”
Silence.
“What?”
“I forgive you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m tired of carrying people who aren’t even in my life anymore.”
She cried harder.
“But forgiveness doesn’t mean friendship.”
“I know.”
“Take care of yourself, Sloan.”
“You too.”
We never spoke again.
The night before my wedding, Cole came to drop off the triplets.
He stood awkwardly at Edward’s townhouse door.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“I remember our wedding.”
“So do I.”
“I thought marrying you meant I had won.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Romantic.”
“I know.”
He looked down.
“I didn’t understand marriage.”
“And now?”
“I think it’s choosing the same person when nobody is watching.”
I stared at him.
“That’s surprisingly wise.”
“I teach now.”
I laughed.
Then Cole became emotional.
“Thank you for not making the kids hate me.”
“I never protected you from consequences.”
“No.”
“But I never weaponized them either.”
“I know.”
His eyes filled.
“You saved my relationship with them.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You did that by showing up.”
He nodded.
Then hugged me.
Briefly.
Respectfully.
When he left, Edward appeared behind me.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“Any lingering desire to run away with your ex?”
I slapped his chest.
“Idiot.”
He smiled.
“You nervous?”
“Terrified.”
“About marrying me?”
“About trusting happiness.”
His smile faded.
He took my hand.
“Then don’t trust forever.”
“What?”
“Trust tomorrow.”
I looked at him.
“And after tomorrow?”
May you like
“We decide again.”
That was exactly enough.
