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A small, guilty smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “Yeah. He did. And that plane he sent was something else.”
“Did he make you come?”
“Of course not, Megan. I wanted to.”
I exhale, my eyes flicking toward my husband—my husband—who is watching us from a distance, talking to Christian and Vaughn but keeping an eye on me like he always does.
He knows I’m a fighter.
But he also knows that I don’t need to keep fighting forever.
I turn back to Naomi, crossing my arms. “What do you want from me?”
She winces slightly at my bluntness. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I just… I wanted to be here. For you.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Now?”
She lets out a small, breathy laugh. “Yeah. A little late, I know.”
I nod slowly. “Yeah.”
She bites her lip, her expression serious now. “I was scared, Megan.”
I tilt my head. “Of what?”
She exhales heavily. “Of what it would mean to choose you over my father. There are serious consequences when you betray someone like him.”
A beat of silence.
Then—
“But I did it,” she says quietly. “I left.”
My breath catches.
“You… left?”
She nods. “Gabriel—my husband—helped me. We, well,I… cut ties with my father. His relationship with him is a little more complicated.”
My chest tightens.
I don’t know what I expected from this conversation, but it wasn’t this.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“That’s… that’s big for you.”
She gives me a weak smile. “Yeah. It is.”
Another pause.
And then she whispers, “I’m sorry, Megan.”
For the first time tonight, my vision blurs.
I shouldn’t let this get to me. I should be stronger than this. But hearing her say it—finally, truly say it—it cracks something in me.
The anger starts to fade.