Chapter 20 - HARRISON’S CONDITIONBlake moved into a furnished apartment near the office.
He told no one publicly.
Neither did Sloane.
They attended two scheduled events separately.
Rumors intensified.
Harrison ignored them.
Then Blake requested a meeting.
Not at the office.
At home.
Harrison agreed.
They sat in the library.
Blake looked around.
Family photographs covered one wall.
He appeared in nearly all of them.
Toddler Blake on Harrison’s shoulders.
Blake at graduation.
Blake beside Evelyn at his first Mercer Holdings charity banquet.
A lifetime of belonging.
“Are you and Sloane separating?” Harrison asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
Blake looked surprised.
“You are?”
“I don’t enjoy your pain.”
“I thought you hated her.”
“I don’t know her well enough to hate her.”
Blake almost smiled.
Then grew serious.
“I watched the footage.”
Harrison said nothing.
“I understand now.”
“Do you?”
“I looked like…”
He stopped.
“What?”
“Someone I wouldn’t trust.”
Harrison leaned back.
That mattered.
Blake continued.
“I kept thinking you were punishing me.”
“I know.”
“And Mom was punishing me.”
“Yes.”
“She wasn’t.”
“No.”
“She just stopped protecting me.”
Harrison nodded.
“That feels worse.”
“I imagine.”
Blake stared at the fireplace.
“What do I do?”
“With?”
“Mom.”
“Nothing.”
Blake looked up.
“What?”
“You apologize when you can do it without needing anything afterward.”
“I already apologized.”
“You asked for the succession ten minutes later.”
Blake closed his eyes.
“Right.”
Harrison continued.
“No gift. No speech. No pressure. No asking whether she forgives you.”
“Then how do I know if—”
“You don’t.”
Blake looked frustrated.
“You live with uncertainty.”
Another no.
Another limit.
Harrison watched his son absorb it.
“And professionally?”
“You remain where you are.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
Blake nodded.
No argument.
Harrison noticed.
“The shares?”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He met his father’s eyes.
“You don’t owe them to me.”
For the first time since the wedding, Harrison felt something loosen inside his chest.
Not forgiveness.
Possibility.
Blake stood.
At the door, Harrison spoke.
“One condition.”
Blake turned.
“Don’t ask your mother to forgive you until you can accept that she may not trust you again.”
Blake swallowed.
“That could take years.”
“Yes.”
“And if it does?”
“You spend years being trustworthy.”
Simple.
Brutal.
Fair.
May you like
Blake nodded.
Then left.
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