I frowned, shaking my head. “But then how did you …”
His smile faded. “Looking back, I know your mother falling into my arms had more to do with making Paul jealous than it ever had to do with me. At the time—God, I can’t believe we were ever so young …” A pause. “I thought it just made sense. We were grieving together, looking for comfort after a heartbreak. I didn’t realize it when she got pregnant, didn’t understand even when we walked down the aisle. I was dumb enough to think I could even learn to love her. She watched Rosemary and Paul get married and run Longbourne and have all those kids. And all your mother did was build her business and spend her spare time resenting me and her mother and Rosemary. Evelyn went after her fortune, and I’ve always held a suspicion that all that hard work was to spite Rosemary. Maybe she thought money would make her happy. Maybe she thought she could put herself above Rosemary, to look down at her and feel like she’d won. Either way, Evelyn was wrong. The Bennets might not have money, but they have everything she wants.”
I sat for a moment in stunned silence.
My past and present fluttered like a flip book, every picture flashing to make a whole. Her bitter rivalry. Her determination to ruin the Bennets. Her mistreatment of my father.
And in that understanding, I found a solemn sort of peace.
Dad watched me. “Are you all right?”
“I feel like you just threw open the curtains and illuminated the room. Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Aside from your mother’s threats? It never mattered before. But now that you’ve been dragged into the middle of it, you should know why.”
“Why didn’t she want me to know?”
“Pride, if I had to guess. There aren’t many people who knew or cared enough, and I think your mother would prefer no one know she lost a man to Rosemary Bennet.”
I sat for a silent second. “I didn’t think it was possible to be more opposed to this lawsuit, but you’ve done it.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of it. I’m sorry for agreeing to the whole thing in the first place.”
“Why did you?”
“Because she was pregnant with my child. Because I thought it was the right thing to do. When she lost the baby … I don’t know. We found each other in our grief, held on to each other to survive the loss. It was a girl. Elizabeth, we named her. Evelyn was in her last few weeks.”
A shock of emotion gripped me, squeezed my throat, stung my nose. I’d never heard my mother mention her first pregnancy, and my father had only spoken of it a few times, never in detail. I’d never heard my sister’s name, and the pain in his voice when he spoke it shook me to my core.
For the first time in my adult life, I imagined my mother having a heart. The thought was astonishing, unnerving. Like peering into the window of a stranger’s life, though I’d known her all my life.
“After that, we were trying for you, and again, I thought …” He trailed off. “Those were the happiest years we had. I think she tried. But your mother never loved me. I was a means to an end. A warm body. A contractual obligation. Nothing more. When you were born, she shut me out. Shut you out. Shut out the world. She wouldn’t see a doctor for her depression, wouldn’t let me help her. And things just … disintegrated. When your grandmother died, I think your mother stepped into her life as a way to cope, not realizing she’d replaced Felicity in all ways. And here we are. I’m not at all surprised she’s still trying to hurt Rosemary. Two Bower women in a row were jilted by the Bennets, and it made the Bowers miserable. They call it a curse. I say it’s self-inflicted.” I must have looked worried because he added with a teasing smile, “Don’t worry. I think it’ll skip your generation.”
“I don’t think it has,” I said softly, my heart lodged in my throat.
“Why do you say that?”
I looked up, met his eyes. “A truth for a truth. I owe you one.”
His gaze darkened. “The truth about what, Maisie?”
“I … I kissed Marcus Bennet.”
He stilled.
“Well, I mean, he kissed me, but I asked him to,” I rambled, “so I’m not really sure who kissed whom, but we did. We kissed.”
“How …”
“It was chance. I ran into him in the rain. Literally ran into him, and he took me to a coffee shop and asked me out. Well, I asked him out. And a half hour later, he walked into the boardroom, representing his mother.”
He ran his hand over his mouth in a long, slow stroke. “Maisie, you can’t—”
“I know. I know we can’t, and he does too. But I hate it, Dad. I hate it so much.” The catch of my voice prompted me to swallow. “And after today, I’m not altogether convinced I shouldn’t just pack my things and leave. Forsake it all because what kind of life will I live if it’s under her?” My breath hitched, and I swallowed a sob. “I don’t want to end up like her, Daddy. I can’t.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, pulling me into his arms again. “You will never end up like her.”
“Even if I end up loveless? Will I spite and resent her so much that I become her, just like she became her mother?”
“No. You won’t end up like that. I promise.”
“You can’t promise that.”
He didn’t argue.
I backed away, wiping my cheeks. “I can’t live like this. I can’t.”
“Then don’t.”
“You would support me leaving?” I asked hopefully.
“I’ll support anything you want, but that’s not what I meant. You have something she wants, Maisie. She’s doing an awful lot of negotiating, considering it’s you she has to convince to stay.”
I sniffled, thinking it through. “So I should try to bargain with her?”
“Your mother doesn’t bargain. She demands, and so should you. Because here’s the thing—there is a place for you here. Think of all you could do with this company when those shares are in your hands. If you play it right, you can inherit a vehicle to elicit change and good in the world. You can reshape the company. And most importantly, you can stick it to your mother.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“If that isn’t enough for you to stay, I understand. If you don’t want to be yoked to your mother for another minute, I will back you up. If you’re ready to go, say the word and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. But before you give up for good, I think you should put up a fight.”
“Do you really think it would work?”
“You’re ready to walk away, right?”
“I am,” I answered with certainty.
“Then what do you have to lose if it doesn’t?”
A feeling arose in me, a slow rise of light, of hope, of purpose and freedom. Because she had nothing left to hold over me that I wasn’t willing to give up. The power shifted to me, slid into my waiting hand and blazed in defiance.
I would make my stand. Make my demands.
And for once, she would give me what I wanted.
“All right,” I said with a bold streak of rebellion fluttering in my belly, “I’ll do it.”