Page 80 of Ransom

"Of course you didn't. You've been seeing what you expected to see." Maggie's voice is gentle but firm. "Blair isn't trapped here. She's thriving. The garage isn't a chain around her neck—it's her kingdom. And she runs it exactly how she wants to."

"She told me she loved it here. That she's happy."

"She is. She loved Robert deeply," Maggie says. "But that's not why she stays. She stays because this life—this town, that garage, these people—it's what makes her happy. Truly, deeply happy."

I stare at my hands on Maggie's kitchen table, everything clicking into place. This whole year, I'd been telling myself Blairwas stuck here, that she needed saving, that maybe one day she'd want something different.

But she doesn't. She never did.

Blair's built exactly the life she wants. While I was out there creating my empire, she was building her own—brick by brick, degree by degree, student by student.

"Fuck," I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

"Language!" Max's voice pipes up from the hallway.

"Sorry, buddy," I yell back, though I'm not sure he's the guy to be policing my language. Maggie's shoulders are shaking, her hand pressed to her mouth.

My mind's racing. If I want Blair—and God help me, I do—I can't expect her to bend. This is her home, her life, built exactly how she wants it. The garage isn't just a business; it's her legacy. Robert's legacy.

My brothers need me in Chicago. The company needs me there. But Blair... Blair needs to be here.

I'm going to have to figure out how to bridge that gap. How to keep my family whole while building something new here. Because walking away from Blair again? That's not happening.

I've spent twenty-five years trying to forget her. Twenty-five years building walls around that part of my heart. And in a matter of days, she's torn them all down.

So yeah, I'm going to have to get creative. Find a way to make this work. Because leaving isn't an option anymore.

Max waves his fork,flinging bits of noodle as he tells us about his day.

"And then Jimmy just whipped it out and started peeing!" Max's eyes go wide. "Right there on the playground!"

Blair raises an eyebrow. "And you used Jason as a shield?"

"Well, yeah. Better him than me." Max shrugs, shoveling another forkful into his mouth.

"Why didn't you both just run?" Maggie's trying not to laugh, but failing.

Max pauses, fork halfway to his mouth. "Huh. That would've been smart."

"Tactical retreat." Blair nods sagely. "Always a valid strategy."

"Next time someone tries to pee on me, I'm running." Max says this like it's a common occurrence.

Blair catches my eye across the table, and for a second I see the hint of a smile. It hits me how natural she is with Max. There's none of that forced cheerfulness adults usually use with kids. She just... talks to him. Like he's a person who happens to be smaller.

"Maybe we avoid getting peed on altogether?" Maggie smooths Max's wild hair. "And use our words instead?"

"Mom." Max rolls his eyes. "Jimmy doesn't listen to words. He's like a tiny drunk person."

"Drunk person?" I mouth at Blair. She just rolls her eyes.

"He's not wrong." Blair reaches for her water. "He's a lot like his dad, Kurt, was in third grade."

"Oh god. He peed in the corner of the classroom," Maggie says, groaning.

"Yep. That corner stunk for the rest of the year." Blair turns to Max. "See? Every grade has one kid who makes questionable choices. And sometimes, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

Maggie shoots them both a look. "We're not encouraging this."

---