Not by wealth.
By a woman Cassandra had called “nothing.”
But no apology came.
Cassandra held herself together like someone gripping the edge of a cliff with manicured nails.
And then she was led away, furious and silent, trapped inside the consequences of her own choices.
Naomi didn’t celebrate.
Marcus didn’t either.
They went home.
They made dinner.
For illustration purposes only
They sat with the boys while they did homework, while they asked questions about why grown-ups sometimes turn mean, why people who say “I love you” can still hurt you, why money doesn’t stop monsters.
He said, “Sometimes people love the idea of a life more than the people inside it.”
He said, “You’re not a problem. You’re my miracle.”
He said, “If I ever make you feel unwanted, you tell me. You don’t carry that alone.”
Naomi watched him when he spoke, not with admiration, but with a kind of cautious hope.
The kind you give someone who’s trying, finally, to become the person they thought they already were.
9. What Marcus Built Next
Marcus made changes that would’ve seemed impossible to his old self.
He audited his own companies, not for profit leaks, but for human leaks: underpaid labor, exploitative contracts, disposable employees.
Continue reading…
