Chapter 33 Olivia #2
“Y-Yeah, sorry.” I smiled weakly. “I just started thinking about everything I need to get done before this meeting tomorrow. Are you in the Nashville office, or am I flying out to L.A.?”
Please say Nashville. Please say Nashville.
“L.A., unfortunately.” My heart sank. “I’m already rescheduling my day to ensure we have enough time to take care of everything. If you’re okay with it, I’d like to start first thing at eight?”
I nodded. If I were going into the office that early, I’d barely have enough time to say goodbye to Charlie before I left. The pit in my stomach grew tenfold.
Carl was quick to depart, eager to get started on his research, leaving the rest of us to sit in silence.
Allison slid the binder across the desk toward me.
“Here is the will in its entirety. I know it’s soon, but we should also schedule a meeting sometime this week to go over your duties as executor. ”
“I’ll have my assistant reach out to schedule a time,” I said, shaking her hand as she stood.
Her gaze traveled to the unopened letter I’d set down. “Please don’t forget to read that. It’s imperative that you do so as soon as possible.”
“Why?” I asked. “What’s a few more days when we’ve already been waiting weeks?”
“Mr. Hart was clear in his instructions that you were both meant to read the letters the day you received them.” Allison stepped around the desk. “He seemed like a deliberate man. I would assume there’s a reason for his urgency.”
Lukas escorted Allison down the hall, leaving me alone in the office.
I collapsed back into the chair and stared at the letter.
If the law office had received it in the mail only a day or two after his death, it meant this was one of the last things he wrote.
Seeing his final thoughts was a privilege, but having them immortalized in writing was even more so.
“Surprised you haven’t opened it yet,” Lukas asked, leaning against the door. “Curiosity would’ve gotten the best of me by now.”
“Thankfully, you have your own letter to satisfy you,” I muttered.
“You’re not even a little bit curious?”
“Obviously, I am.”
He scratched his neck. “See, Sis, I’m failing to see the hang-up here.”
Of course, he didn’t understand. I loved my brother, but our priorities had always been different.
“Opening that letter feels too real. I know John’s dead.
I know he is, but seeing his final thoughts on paper makes it tangible.
Its closure. It’s goodbye.” I placed my hand over my heart, voice breaking. “I’m not ready for this to be over.”
Lukas came to a crouch in front of me, placing his hands on my knees. “Liv, it doesn’t have to be. You don’t have to take the meeting tomorrow. Put it off for at least a few days. That’ll buy you some time to figure out what the hell you want to do.”
“If I don’t do it now, my anxiety is only going to get worse. I’m already nauseous. I don’t know how much more I can take.” I tried to joke, but Lukas didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, Luke.”
His gaze softened. “Open the letter.”
I put up my finger. “I’d rather do it alone, actually. You don’t get to see my tears.”
“Open it, Livvy.”
I stared at the letter for only a moment before I swiped it off the table and tore it open. There was the faintest whiff of John’s aftershave on the paper. I closed my eyes, thinking back to all the times that scent brought me comfort.
It was like he was in this room with us. I could picture him sitting right behind the desk, like he so often was growing up. Or us sitting together in this garden as we watched the sky turn pink at dusk.
I’d give anything for that to be true.
Glancing up at my brother, he gave me a nod. I could do this. I needed to do this.
Olivia,
I don’t have long to write this letter. You’ll be back from town any minute now. I’m glad you have a soft spot for old men who are dying and love chocolate. It works out very well for me, especially when I have a couple of things I need to say.
First, you need to know how proud I am of you.
I’ve never seen anyone work quite as hard as you—including your brother, and he builds houses.
(Please don’t tell him I said that. I don’t need him haunting me in the afterlife.) No matter the challenge, you’ve risen to every occasion.
I’m convinced there isn’t a single thing you couldn’t do if you put your mind to it.
Which brings us, not so gently, to the next matter.
From the time you were old enough to walk, music was your passion.
You begged your parents to train you on all manner of instruments—some of which you excelled at, while others you did not.
Do you remember your harmonica phase? Because I still have a headache from those excruciating months.
Your father had to bury the damn thing just to get you to move on to something else.
But you never gave up. Music is in your blood.
It’s a part of who you are. Which is why your father planned to entrust you with the company when you got older.
We both know now that the handover came too soon.
You were just a child grieving, and yet you were already being groomed to over take the company.
At first, I thought your fierce allegiance to Hartstrings was what we needed.
In a way, I was right. Only someone with your level of determination could have taken a successful venture and grown it tenfold.
When your grandfather founded this business, I can tell you with certainty that he never dreamed it would be what it is today.
But that has all come at a cost I perpetuated, I fear.
You see, I pride myself on having lived a life without regrets.
I never felt the absence of a spouse or children because you and Lukas brought more than enough light to my life.
I never dreamed of more money because I inherited more than I could ever spend in a lifetime.
I never wanted to slow down in my career because it was a part of who I was. It was my purpose in life.
Do not let it be yours.
I’ve sat back and watched you struggle to balance who you believe you have to be with who you are.
Let me tell you now that it doesn’t have to be this way.
You don’t have to choose between being a mother or wife and having a career of value.
Nor do you have to continue down a path you no longer recognize for the sake of doing what you believe is right or the only choice.
Olivia, you can have it all.
My one regret in this life is not telling you these words sooner.
I helped you pursue a career at the top because I believed it was what you truly wanted, but I worry that was a mistake.
We never really talked about it, did we?
Before I shoved you in front of that boardroom and paraded you around as the future of the company.
For that, I am terribly sorry. I will never forgive myself for any harm I’ve caused. Please know it was never done with ill intent. I wish I had more time with you to make it right.
By now, my lawyer has informed you of your inheritance. This was not a decision I made lightly, but I trust that, after reading this letter, you will do what you feel is right. Whatever that may be.
My dear, I wish I could’ve said these words and so many more in person. I wish we had more time, but time is the one thing we cannot manufacture, so I hope these scribbled apologies on a piece of paper are enough.
Live your life, Olivia. Live it boldly and without fear. Live it for you and no one else, and know that no matter what your decision may be, I will always be endlessly proud of you.
Your biggest fan,
Uncle John
Droplets splattered against the paper as I looked up, blinking away the torrent of tears running down my face.
Lukas stared at me, his eyes so full of concern.
“That’s not really giving me a lot of hope for my own letter, you know.
” I chuckled, but immediately delved into a hysterical sob.
“Okay. No to the bad jokes,” he said, scooting closer. “Got it.”
“No, it’s fine,” I said, wiping my nose on the back of my sleeve. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
“Because it’s a lot to take in at once. The letter, the company, all of it.”
My lip trembled as I murmured, “I don’t know what to do, Luke. Everything feels so out of my control right now.”
“Livvy, you’ve never had more control than you do right now. The company is yours to do whatever you want with. You can run it however you like.”
But that was the problem. What if I didn’t want to run it at all anymore?
Sure, I could sell, but then what? The independent label created solely to give smaller artists a voice would be gone.
The legacy my father left behind, the one my uncle protected, would be destroyed.
The sacrifices I made wouldn’t amount to shit.
All the school productions, soccer practices, and ballet recitals I tearfully watched on a small screen while away at work would be for nothing. Unlike John, I looked back on my life and saw a graveyard of poor decisions. It would be easier to name the things I didn’t regret at this point.
“I know it terrifies you, but you’re the one in control here. Only you can decide how to live your life.” Lukas squeezed my hands. “So, what do you want to do?”
Taking a deep breath, I met my brother’s gaze. “I need you to do me a favor.”