Chapter 8 - Ashes and Embers
When the car disappeared down the road, the silence returned, heavier and purer.
Maren let out a shuddering breath, her legs suddenly giving out. I caught her before she could hit the porch deck, wrapping my arms around both her and Leo. She buried her face into my chest, sobbing uncontrollably. The terror, the exhaustion, the months of solitary dread finally broke through her defenses.
"I’ve got you," I whispered, lifting her gently and carrying her back inside, kicking the door shut against the freezing wind. "I’ve got both of you."
I laid her down on the sofa, tucking the blankets around her. I took Leo, who was blissfully asleep despite the chaos, and set him safely into his bassinet beside the couch.
For the next four hours, I worked in silence.
I swept the broken glass from the floor. I shoveled the snow from her front walk. I found ingredients in her pantry and made a hearty vegetable soup, just the way she liked it when she was sick during our first year of marriage. I scrubbed the counters, sanitized the baby bottles, and organized the pile of unopened mail on her desk.
When Maren woke up around noon, the aroma of simmering soup filled the house.
She rubbed her eyes, looking around the spotless living room in disbelief. "Everett... what did you do?"
"Made lunch," I said, bringing a hot bowl over to the coffee table along with a glass of water. "Eat. You need your strength."
She sat up slowly, looking at me with a mixture of wonder and wariness. "You haven't cooked since college."
"I remember the recipe," I smiled softly, sitting across from her. "You taught me, remember? On our first anniversary in that tiny walk-up apartment."
A fragile smile touched her lips. She took a spoonful, closing her eyes as the warmth hit her. "It's actually good."
"I aim to please."
As she ate, Leo woke up, demanding his afternoon feeding. Without missing a beat, I stood up, prepared a bottle with practiced precision, and scooped him up into my arms. I sat down beside Maren, feeding him with steady, patient hands.
Maren watched us, her expression unreadable.
"You really meant it, didn't you?" she asked softly. "About giving up the board. About cutting her off."
"I sent the formal directive to our general counsel from my laptop while you were sleeping," I told her honestly. "The emergency board meeting is scheduled for tomorrow morning via video conference. By noon, Eleanor Vance will hold no operational title at Vance Technologies. I am stepping down as CEO and appointing Marcus Vance as interim head."
Maren nearly choked on her soup. "You stepped down as CEO?"
May you like
"I took the Chairman position. No day-to-day operations. No hundred-hour work weeks. No cross-continental flights every Tuesday." I looked straight into her eyes. "I missed the first nine months of his life, Maren. I’m not missing the rest."
***
