Page 41 of The Space He Left
My blood went cold. "You're leaving?"
"I haven't decided yet. But I've got a family to support. If Henderson Construction goes under, I need to know I have somewhere to land."
"Pete, please. Give me a chance to fix this. Give me six months."
Pete studied my face for a long moment. "Six months to do what? I’ve seen the old Jack in action here today, but you can't undo the damage to our reputation overnight. You can't make clients trust us again just by wanting it."
"I can prove that I've changed. I can show them that Henderson Construction is reliable again."
"This isn't just about missed appointments and poor communication. This is about character. Clients need to believe that the man running this company will put their needs first, that he won't disappear when something more interesting comes along."
The words were harsh but fair. I'd proven that I couldn't be trusted to prioritize my responsibilities. Why should clients believe I'd changed?
"I know I have to earn back their trust," I said. "But I can't do it without you. Pete, you're the best foreman in the state. If you leave, Henderson Construction really will go under."
"Maybe it should," Pete said quietly. "Maybe that would be better than watching it die slowly."
"My father built this company. It's his legacy."
"Your father built a company based on integrity and reliability. You've spent two months destroying those foundations. Maybe the Henderson name doesn't deserve to survive."
Pete had never spoken to me like this before; he had always been supportive and loyal. Now he was telling me that maybe the family business should die because of what I'd done. That hit hard. Just another casualty of my fuck up.
"Give me six months," I said again. "If I can't turn things around in six months, I'll find you a better job myself."
Pete was quiet for a long moment. "Six months. But, if you miss one appointment, if you prioritize personal drama over business one more time, I'm gone."
"I understand."
As I drove back to the hotel, I thought about the day's revelations. Seven contracts canceled, four employees almost laid off, our reputation in ruins. The business my father had built and trusted me to run was hanging by a thread, and it was entirely my fault.
But Pete was giving me six months. It wasn't forgiveness, it wasn't trust, but it was a chance. A chance to prove that I could be the man my father had raised me to be, the businessman this community needed, the person who could honor the Henderson name.
I thought about Harper, probably at home with Emma by now, surrounded by family who'd shown up when she needed them. I thought about my daughter, who would grow up either proud of her father's business or ashamed of how he'd destroyed it.
Six months to save Henderson Construction.
Six months to prove I could be trusted again.
Six months to become worthy of the second chance I didn't deserve but desperately needed.
It wasn't much time, but it was more than I had any right to expect.
Chapter 14
Jack
The drive to the city felt different this time. It wasn't fueled by Madison’s manufactured panic or my own desperate guilt. It was a cold, quiet dread. I had made the appointment two days ago, in the sterile quiet of the hospital hallway after seeing Emma for the first time. The nurse had given me a number, a therapist specializing in… I wasn’t even sure what. Crisis? Failure? Men who destroy their own lives?
Now, with Harper’s lawyer’s letter tucked in the inside pocket of my jacket, the paper feeling like a block of ice against my ribs, the session felt less like a step toward healing and more like an autopsy.
Dr. Cox’s office was in a tall, anonymous building that smelled of floor polish and quiet professionalism. The room itself was understated: two comfortable-looking armchairs, a low table, and a large window overlooking the impersonal gray of the city. There were no family photos, no personal trinkets. It was a space designed for difficult truths.
Dr. Cox himself was a man in his late fifties with kind, intelligent eyes and a calm demeanor that felt unnervingly steady compared to the storm raging inside me. He gestured to one of the chairs.
“Jack, thank you for coming in,” he said, his voice even. “I know it can be difficult to make that first call.”
I just nodded, my throat too tight to speak.
