Chapter 20
Celeste looked offended.
Then tired.
“I did not come to fight.”
“Why did you come?”
“Damian is unraveling.”
I folded my arms.
“He is under pressure.”
“You know what I mean.”
I did.
But I would not participate in diagnosing him.
“I know he is angry.”
“He has not slept.”
“That sounds like something his doctor can address.”
She looked at me sharply.
“You are enjoying this.”
“No.”
“I do not believe you.”
“I do not need you to.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The hallway smelled faintly of someone’s dinner.
Garlic.
Tomatoes.
Ordinary life behind ordinary doors.
Celeste lowered her voice.
“When Damian was nineteen, his father nearly lost Wolfe Meridian.”
I waited.
She looked past me.
“One project went wrong.”
Her hands tightened around her handbag.
“Creditors circled.
Partners vanished.
People who had eaten at our table stopped taking calls.”
I had rarely heard Celeste talk about fear.
She usually converted history into triumph.
“What happened?”
“His father saved it.”
“How?”
“By refusing to let anyone see weakness.”
I almost sighed.
Of course.
Celeste saw my expression.
“You think that sounds ridiculous.”
“I think hiding weakness and fixing weakness are different things.”
Her mouth tightened.
“Damian learned what happened to people who looked uncertain.”
“And so did everyone around him.”
She ignored that.
“He was twenty-two when his father died.”
“I know.”
“He believed the company had killed him.”
My anger softened despite myself.
Not into forgiveness.
Into understanding.
Understanding is dangerous because people often confuse it with absolution.
It is not.
A wound may explain why someone bleeds on everyone around them.
It does not make the blood less real.
Celeste continued.
“Damian decided he would never let this company appear vulnerable.”
I looked at her.
“Is that what happened with Harbor Crown?”
“I do not know.”
I believed her.
That surprised me.
“You came here because you want me to stop.”
“Yes.”
“I cannot.”
“You can tell them you misunderstood.”
“I didn’t.”
“You can say the marriage affected your judgment.”
I stared at her.
She heard herself too late.
“So that is still the plan?”
“What?”
“Make me smaller until the facts fit around him.”
Her face hardened.
“This is bigger than your feelings.”
“I know.”
“That company supports thousands of families.”
“I know.”
“Then act like it.”
“I am.”
My voice rose for the first time.
“Do you think investors losing confidence later would be safer?”