“He was right.”
I nodded.
For the first time all day, my hands were no longer shaking.
The house was safe.
My savings were protected.
My father’s legacy remained mine.
And somewhere between Bellmere International Airport and this porch in Westhaven, the future Adrian had planned for me had disappeared.
Not because I was smarter than everyone.
Not because I had somehow predicted the affair.
Because three years earlier, when Adrian forged my signature for the first time, I had learned a painful lesson.
Forgiveness does not require removing safeguards.
Trust does not mean handing someone unrestricted access to your future.
And love does not mean refusing to read the fine print.
Marcus looked toward me.
“What happens now?”
I took one final look down the road where the police car had disappeared.
Then I turned toward the doorway.
Toward my home.
“I move on.”
“You think you’ll be okay?”
