Page 165 of Ten Day Affair
Dad stays quiet, his focus razor-sharp like always. The server sets down our salads. He picks up his fork, takes a measured bite, then asks, "Is that why you're selling the house?"
I’d been bracing for this. I told him when we spoke before I flew in. But now the nerves are gone. I hope he’s supportive. But if he’s not, that's okay, too.
I nod. "I needed to stop holding onto something just because I was afraid to let go. This is a way for me to bring Mom with me, and for me to do something meaningful with my inheritance."
His fork pauses halfway to his mouth. Something shifts in his expression. He's still cautious, but different, like he's seeing me instead of just looking at me.
Dad sets down his fork and looks at me. "You sound like your mother."
My chest tightens, but not with that familiar ache of falling short. This feels different, like recognition instead of comparison.
"You've always had her spine. I don't say that enough."
Her spine. Not her shadow.
"Thank you, Dad. That means a lot."
"She would've loved this." His voice softens.
We finish eating in comfortable quiet, watching boats drift past the marina. For once, I’m not trying to win his approval or prove I measure up. I'm just sharing my plan with my father.
“Keep me posted.” He signals for the check. “I’m proud of you, Sammy.”
The words hit differently this time. Like he means them instead of feeling obligated to say them.
I hug him goodbye in the parking lot, breathing in his familiar cologne. “I’ll probably see you again before I leave.”
As I slide into the driver’s seat, my phone buzzes with a text from Monique Whitaker.
Call me ASAP.
I stare at the screen, and my mouth goes dry. Today's been too good. I don't want any bad news to ruin it.
THIRTY-EIGHT
Cole
The Singapore skyline fills my laptop screen through Raymond Koh's virtual office window. We've been talking for forty minutes about the Orchard District development. It's sixty floors of residential and commercial space that'll reshape the cityscape.
"The environmental impact study should wrap up next month," Raymond explains, pulling up another spreadsheet. "Then we'll have full approval to break ground."
This deal represents everything I've worked toward. International expansion, sustainable development. These are projects that matter beyond just profit margins.
A loud thud echoes from my front door, followed by what sounds like someone fumbling with the handle.
"Raymond, give me one second. I need to step away from the computer."
I mute my microphone and turn off the video feed, then push back from my desk near the window.
The front door bursts open before I reach it. Sam stumbles inside, tears streaming down her face, her whole body shaking.
"Sam." I rush toward her, my left arm reaching out since the right one's still trapped in this damn sling.
"Are you okay?"
She collapses against me, her face pressing into my chest. Her shoulders shake with what I think are sobs.
"I'm more than okay." Her voice is muffled against my shirt. "I'm perfect. I'm so perfect I can't stop crying."
