Chapter 12 - THE WRONG CHOICE MADE RIGHT
Nathan looked around the boardroom.
He knew every person at the table.
Some had believed in him when Whitmore Global owned sixteen trucks.
Some had joined after the company became worth hundreds of millions.
Daniel pushed the contract closer.
“We need certainty.”
Nathan almost laughed.
That word.
Certainty.
He had spent years demanding it from everyone around him while giving none of it to Emma.
“I can give you certainty.”
Daniel relaxed slightly.
Nathan slid the contract back.
“I will not return under these terms.”
The room went silent.
Daniel stared at him.
“You understand what you’re giving up?”
“Yes.”
“You could lose control of the company.”
“Yes.”
“This is your life.”
Nathan thought of Sophie sleeping against his chest.
Then Emma standing inside the bookstore telling him she needed years.
“No.”
Nathan stood.
“It was.”
Daniel followed him into the hallway.
“Think about this.”
“I have.”
“You built this place.”
Nathan turned.
“And then I used that fact as permission to destroy everything outside it.”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“This is about your wife.”
“It’s about me.”
Nathan walked away.
Back in Oregon, Emma heard the news from television before Nathan called.
Whitmore Declines CEO Reinstatement.
Her stomach dropped.
When Nathan called, she answered immediately.
“You said no.”
“Yes.”
“Because of me?”
“No.”
“Nathan.”
“Not because of you.”
He spoke carefully.
“Because their version of the job requires me to become someone I don’t want to be anymore.”
Emma paced.
“You cannot throw away your life trying to prove something.”
“I’m not.”
“You might lose hundreds of millions of dollars.”
“I’ll survive.”
“That isn’t funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
Emma closed her eyes.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet.”
That answer frightened her.
But it also sounded real.
No perfect plan.
No manipulation.
No speech about destiny.
Just uncertainty.
Three days later, Nathan returned to Newport.
He rented the small house two streets behind the bookstore.
Not a mansion.
Not beachfront property.
A two-bedroom house with peeling paint and a crooked porch.
Emma stared when he showed her.
“You bought that?”
“Rented.”
She blinked.
“You rent things?”
Nathan smiled.
“Apparently.”
“Why here?”
“So I can be near Sophie.”
He held up one hand.
“Not near enough to invade your life.”
Emma almost smiled.
Nathan gave her a key.
She frowned.
“What is this?”
“My house key.”
“Why would I need it?”
“In case Sophie is ever with me and something happens.”
Emma stared at the key.
That was practical.
Not romantic.
Not dramatic.
Responsible.
She put it in her pocket.
Nathan looked relieved.
Then Emma’s phone rang.
Her doctor.
Emma listened.
Her expression changed.
Nathan immediately noticed.
“What?”
She ended the call.
“They found something on my postpartum blood work.”
Nathan went still.
May you like
Emma swallowed.
“I have to go back to the hospital tomorrow.”
