Chapter 8
The Last Chance He Cannot Demand
Lucy did not sleep.
The man's warning kept circling through her mind.
Ask Freddie why Daniel Holloway was investigating your family before he died.
By three in the morning, she had stopped trying to dismiss it.
By four, she had opened the documents her attorney had sent.
By five, she had made a decision.
She would not call Freddie.
She would find the answer herself.
The following morning, she drove to the Holloway family archives.
The building stood behind the estate, separated from the main house by a long stretch of lawn and iron fencing.
Lucy had been inside only once.
Freddie had never brought her there.
She parked outside.
Before she could reach the entrance, her phone rang.
Freddie.
Lucy stared at the screen.
She answered.
"How did you know I was here?"
"I didn't."
His voice sounded tired.
"I was calling because I need to tell you something."
"So do I."
A pause.
"Where are you?"
"The archives."
Silence.
"Lucy, don't go inside."
Her grip tightened around the phone.
"Why?"
"Because I don't know what you'll find."
"That isn't an answer."
"I know."
"Then give me one."
Freddie exhaled.
"My brother was investigating financial transfers connected to Holloway International before he died."
"I know."
Another silence.
"How?"
"I was warned."
His voice changed.
"By whom?"
"I don't know."
"Lucy, listen to me."
"No. You listen."
She walked toward the archive doors.
"You told me you were changing."
"I am."
"Then stop deciding what I should know."
"I'm not trying to control you."
"Then don't tell me where I can go."
He went quiet.
Lucy waited.
Finally, he said, "You're right."
She stopped.
"I'll meet you there."
"No."
"Lucy."
"I don't need you to protect me."
"I'm not asking you to let me."
"Then why are you coming?"
His answer came quietly.
"Because I owe you the truth."
Lucy looked at the locked door.
"Fine."
Twenty minutes later, Freddie arrived.
He stepped out of his car alone.
No assistant.
No security.
No attempt to take control of the situation.
He walked toward her.
Lucy watched him approach.
He looked different.
Not physically.
He was still Freddie Holloway, still perfectly dressed, still carrying the quiet confidence that had once made entire rooms rearrange themselves around him.
But there was something restrained in his movements now.
He stopped several feet away.
"I won't go in unless you want me to."
Lucy stared at him.
"That's new."
"I know."
She unlocked the door.
"Come on."
Inside, dust covered the old shelves.
Boxes were stacked against the walls.
Freddie led her toward a cabinet in the back.
"Daniel kept personal files here."
"You've been here before."
"Yes."
"Did you know about me being investigated?"
"No."
Lucy looked at him.
"Are you sure?"
He met her eyes.
"Yes."
She believed him.
That frightened her.
They opened the first box.
Corporate reports.
Bank records.
Internal correspondence.
Nothing.
The second box contained photographs.
Lucy picked one up.
Daniel stood beside a woman Lucy did not recognize.
Freddie took it from her.
"That's Amelia Voss."
"Who is she?"
"Daniel's financial investigator."
"Where is she now?"
"I don't know."
Lucy opened another file.
Then she froze.
Her maiden name appeared across the top.
Mollie had not been the only secret.
Lucy pulled out the document.
Freddie stepped closer.
"What is it?"
She handed it to him.
He read it.
His face drained of color.
"This is a background report."
"On me."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Freddie scanned the pages.
"Daniel believed your father's company had been used to conceal money."
Lucy stared at him.
"My father?"
"I don't know if it was true."
"You knew nothing about this?"
"No."
"Then why was this hidden?"
Freddie looked toward the shelves.
"Because my family buried anything that threatened the company."
Lucy laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
"And you became exactly like them."
His eyes lowered.
"Yes."
The admission landed harder than an argument.
Lucy turned away.
"I should have known."
"Known what?"
"That marrying a man like you meant marrying the entire machine behind him."
Freddie's expression tightened.
"I never wanted you trapped in it."
"But you never asked."
"No."
She looked at him.
"You made decisions for me."
"I did."
"You lied when it was convenient."
"Yes."
"You cheated."
"Yes."
Lucy stepped closer.
"Why should I believe anything you say now?"
Freddie did not reach for her.
He did not defend himself.
"Maybe you shouldn't."
Her eyes narrowed.
"That's it?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know."
"Neither do I."
The honesty disarmed her.
Freddie looked at the file in his hand.
"But I know this. You don't owe me trust because I've started telling the truth."
Lucy felt her anger falter.
He continued.
"You don't owe me forgiveness because I've stopped making excuses."
His voice roughened.
"And you don't owe me a marriage because I finally understand what I destroyed."
Lucy looked away.
Her chest hurt.
She wanted to hate him.
It would have been easier.
But standing there, watching him refuse to fight for control, she remembered the man she had fallen in love with.
The man who used to listen.
The man who had once made her feel like the most important person in the room.
That man had not disappeared completely.
He had been buried beneath arrogance, ambition, secrecy, and selfishness.
And perhaps that was what made everything worse.
She still wanted him.
Her body remembered him before her heart could object.
The warmth of his hand at her waist.
The quiet intimacy of waking beside him.
The way he used to say her name when they were alone.
Lucy stepped backward.
Freddie noticed.
He moved no closer.
"Are you afraid of me?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"I'm afraid of myself."
His expression softened.
"Why?"
"Because part of me still wants you."
The words hung between them.
Freddie closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, there was no triumph.
Only pain.
"I still want you too."
Lucy swallowed.
"But wanting each other isn't enough."
"No."
"Love wasn't enough."
"No."
She looked at him.
"Then what is?"
"Choice."
Lucy frowned.
Freddie continued.
"You have to choose me freely. Not because we were married. Not because we had history. Not because you feel sorry for me. Not because I finally did something decent."
His voice shook.
"And if you choose not to, I'll accept it."
Lucy stared at him.
"Even if I never come back?"
He nodded.
"Even then."
That was the moment she understood.
This was his final chance.
Not to win her.
To become someone worthy of having had her.
They left the archive with the documents.
Outside, the afternoon sun was fading.
Lucy stood beside her car.
Freddie remained several feet away.
"Where will you go now?"
"Back to my studio."
"Do you want me to drive you?"
"No."
He nodded.
She opened the car door.
"Freddie."
He looked at her.
"I'm not promising anything."
"I know."
"I'm not ready to forgive you."
"I know."
"And if I decide I don't want you anymore, you have to accept it."
His throat moved.
"I will."
Lucy studied him.
"You're really going to let me go?"
His eyes met hers.
"If that's what you choose."
She climbed into the car.
Then she stopped.
For one dangerous second, she imagined walking toward him.
Kissing him.
Going home.
Pretending the last few months had never happened.
Her hand tightened around the steering wheel.
Instead, she closed the door.
Freddie watched her drive away.
He did not follow.
That night, Lucy sat alone in her studio.
The files were spread across the table.
The evidence against Freddie had become more complicated.
The betrayal had not.
He had cheated.
He had lied.
He had broken promises.
None of the new information erased that.
But the man who stood before her today was no longer asking her to erase it.
Her phone rang.
Connor.
She answered.
"Hey."
"You sound tired."
"I am."
"Bad day?"
"Complicated."
He was quiet.
"Do you want me to come by?"
Lucy hesitated.
A year ago, she might have accepted without thinking.
Now she understood the danger of using another person to escape pain.
"No."
"Okay."
She smiled faintly.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not asking why."
"I'll ask when you're ready."
They ended the call.
Lucy looked at the documents again.
Then at her wedding ring.
She had stopped wearing it weeks ago.
But she had never thrown it away.
She picked it up.
The metal was cool against her palm.
For a moment, she remembered her wedding day.
Freddie had looked at her as though the entire room had disappeared.
She had believed him.
Maybe that memory had been real.
Maybe some of the marriage had been real.
Maybe the problem was that real love could exist alongside terrible choices.
Lucy placed the ring back on the table.
She did not put it on.
Not yet.
Across town, Freddie sat in his office reviewing the archive documents.
Marcus entered.
"We found Amelia Voss."
Freddie looked up.
"Where?"
"Boston."
"Get her on a flight."
Marcus hesitated.
"There's more."
"What?"
"She says Daniel didn't investigate Lucy's family because of the money."
Freddie stood.
"Then why?"
Marcus placed a photograph on the desk.
It showed Daniel and Lucy's father together.
On the back was a date.
Three weeks before Lucy met Freddie.
Freddie stared at it.
"What happened that night?"
Marcus shook his head.
"Amelia won't say."
"Why?"
"She says she'll only talk to Lucy."
Freddie's chest tightened.
"Lucy?"
"Yes."
Freddie looked toward the window.
For the first time, the truth was no longer something he could uncover and hand to Lucy.
She would have to choose whether she wanted it.
And if she did, she would have to decide whether she trusted him enough to stand beside her while she found it.
His phone remained silent.
He did not call.
He wanted to.
Instead, he typed one message.
Amelia Voss is alive. She wants to speak to you directly. I will give you her contact information if you want it. I won't arrange anything without your permission.
He stared at the message.
Then sent it.
Minutes passed.
No response.
An hour.
Nothing.
Freddie put the phone down.
He told himself that was the right thing.
Then, just before midnight, the screen lit up.
Lucy.
I've decided I want to meet her.
Freddie's heart slammed against his ribs.
He typed:
I'll arrange it.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
A new message arrived.
No.
I will arrange it.
Freddie stared at the words.
A strange warmth moved through him.
Not relief.
Not victory.
Respect.
He typed:
Okay.
Lucy replied:
And Freddie?
Yes?
If I discover that you knew more than you've admitted, there will be nothing left between us.
He looked at the message for a long time.
Then answered with the only response he could live with.
I understand.
Lucy put her phone down.
She looked at the ring on the table.
Then at the file bearing her maiden name.
Tomorrow, she would learn why Daniel Holloway had been investigating her family.
And whatever the truth was, it would decide whether Freddie's transformation had come too late.
For the first time since their marriage began, Lucy would enter the truth without letting Freddie choose what she was allowed to see.
And Freddie knew that if the truth destroyed the last fragile thread between them, he would have to let it.
Even if it broke him.