“I am going to hire a financial consultant to review the shop, and if it needs restructuring, it will be done,” I said.
“If it needs to close, you will have to accept it, because I am not going to cover up deep problems with cash,” I added.
My father nodded slowly.
“That is fair,” he agreed.
“If you want to rebuild a relationship with me, it won’t be with empty speeches, but with genuine interest and respect for Catherine,” I said.
My mother was crying silently as she nodded.
“And what about Isabelle?” my father asked.
“If she wants to talk to me, she knows where to find me, but I am done chasing her,” I said.
Before leaving, my father stopped at the door.
“I am proud of you, son, and I should have told you that years ago,” he said.
I didn’t answer, I just nodded.
When they left, Catherine came in and hugged me.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I don’t know, but I don’t feel guilty,” I replied.
“That is also a form of healing,” she said.
A year after the wedding, Isabelle rang the doorbell of our house.
Catherine and I were preparing a simple dinner to celebrate our anniversary.
I opened the door and saw her there, looking thinner and tired.
“I need to talk to you,” she said.
I let her come in.
