Chapter 79
The conversation did not continue right after Nate spoke. The private room stayed quiet, but the silence felt calm. It hung in the air at the table, suggesting understanding instead of disagreement. No one hurried to break the pause.
Julian was the one who eventually spoke up. He didn’t raise his voice or change his body language much. He just shifted in his chair a little and said, “We weren’t there that night p>
He didn’t say which night. He didn’t have to. Everyone understood the reference without needing more details.
Franz stayed quiet. He sat upright with his hands resting on the table, looking steady but relaxed.
Gil glanced down for a moment before looking up again, his forearms resting on the table.
“We thought it was just some internal noise,” he said calmly. “Family issues. Board disagreements. Something she would handle by morning p>
Nate nodded beside him, tightening his jaw a bit as he added, “She usually did p>
They had seen her handle worse before. They thought this would be the same.
They saw Arianne handle large rooms easily. She faced challenges with just a few words. Over time, they realized she didn’t need support because she seemed confident on her own. That’s what shaped their decision.
“She didn’t call p>
Franz nodded. She wouldn’t have.
They found out later than they should have.
Franz took a moment to think about her image. He hadn’t known her well back then, but he understood her better now. He could picture how she would have moved—slowly, intentionally, and not giving the room more than what was needed.
“Did she speak to any of you afterward?” he asked, maintaining the same tone.
Gil shook his head once. “Not about that night p>
“She replied to messages. Quickly and professionally.” Nate explained, “She didn’t turn down contact. She just didn’t encourage closeness p>
“And she didn’t accept help,” Julian added.
Franz leaned back but didn’t say anything.
“You offered your presence,” he said.
“Not to interfere,” Gil replied. “We had no right to intervene. It wasn’t our company. It wasn’t our board p>
This statement made things clear. Whatever happened at Summers Corporation was not their responsibility. They had not chosen to stay silent; they were simply outside the structure entirely.
“What we could have done,” Julian said, putting his hands together on the table, “was stand behind her in that room. We wouldn’t have disrupted anything. We just needed to show that she wasn’t alone p>
Nate took a quiet breath.
“We underestimated how things could get out of hand. We thought Dominic was ambitious. We didn’t think he would make it public. We didn’t think he would corner her like that.” He spoke without bitterness, just a desire to correct the mistake.
And when he did,” Gil continued, “we arrived after the damage was already done p>
Franz looked at him. “You underestimated Dominic p>
“Yes,” Gil answered without hesitation.
No one softened the acknowledgment. They hadn’t doubted Dominic’s intention. They had only underestimated how far it would go.
Franz considered that carefully. They were not speaking about reversing outcomes. They were speaking about presence.
“She didn’t ask you to retaliate,” he said.
“No,” Nate replied.
“And if she had p>
Gil did not change his expression. He glanced at Julian and Nate before answering.
“We would have asked her twice if she was sure p>
No one tried to downplay the situation. They didn’t think it would go that far.
“She decided to cut ties,” Julian said. “Not to fight p>
Franz nodded. This matched what he now understood about her. For Arianne, cutting ties meant adjusting, not leaving.
“She left not long after,” Nate added, lightly touching the table. “It wasn’t dramatic. There were no announcements or confrontations. Just silence p>
Gil’s fingers traced the rim of his glass without lifting it.
“Alex knew where she went p>
Franz’s gaze shifted slightly at that. “He didn’t tell you p>
Julian gave a faint nod.
“We asked once. He made it clear that it wasn’t ours to know p>
There was no resentment in the recollection—only recognition of the boundary.
“For five years,” Gil said, keeping his voice steady, “we did not look for her on purpose. We could have followed financial changes, you know. We could have asked the right people for help, but we chose not to p>
Franz didn’t see it as a distance. If they had pushed, it would have felt like control, and Arianne would have walked further away. The others had mistaken restraint for absence. It wasn’t the same thing, but it looked similar from the outside.
“She left because she needed space. Trying to make her stay close would have been another way to control her.” Julian stated.
“She didn’t want to be restored,” Gil said. “She didn’t want to be avenged p>
“She wanted space. And so we gave it,” Nate concluded.
“It was different after she left,” Julian said quietly, though he stayed calm.
Nate spoke plainly.
“Alex changed. He stopped thinking she would come back. He became more careful p>
“He never blamed her,” Gil added.
“That’s not surprising,” Franz said.
“No,” Nate agreed. “It isn’t p>
The silence that followed felt longer.
“When Alex died,” Julian said, shifting his chair slightly, “we lost the person who held us together p>
No one looked at the empty space at the table, but everyone felt its absence.
“We’re not replacing him,” Gil said.
“We can’t,” Julian added.
Franz did not misunderstand that.
“We adapt,” Nate stated firmly, his gaze steady and resolute.
Gil turned to Franz, still sitting but paying close attention. “Now we need to talk about you p>
Franz remained composed, refusing to show any signs of defensiveness.
“You married her without consulting us first,” Julian said, sounding neutral instead of accusing.
“That wasn’t your decision to make,” Franz replied calmly.
“No,” Julian said, “but it affects the group p>
Franz nodded once, acknowledging the truth in Julian’s words.
“Yes,” he agreed, a hint of understanding passing between them.
“We didn’t disagree,” Gil interjected, attempting to clarify the group’s stance.
“You could have,” Franz answered.
Nate gave a faint smile.
“On what grounds? You didn’t isolate her. You didn’t redirect her. You didn’t try to understand her position p>
“That was never my intention,” Franz replied calmly.
“We know,” Nate said.
The room felt more like a place for assessment than for conflict.
“You understand,” Julian said firmly, “that marrying her doesn’t mean taking Alex’s place p>
“I wouldn’t try to do that,” Franz said.
Gil nodded once. “Good p>
Nate tapped his fingers on the table and stopped. “We don’t keep her away from you p>
Franz looked him in the eye.
“But we will stand by her with you,” Nate added, making the point clear.
“That’s appropriate,” Franz said.
Julian kept his eyes on him. “If she ever decides to pull away again p>
“She won’t disappear,” Franz said.
“That’s not what I asked,” Julian replied.
Franz rephrased calmly. “If she needs space, I will give it. But I won’t confuse silence with a direction p>
The room grew quieter.
Gil looked more focused. “You think we did that p>
“I believe you respected her completely,” Franz said, observing without judging.
Nate thought about it for a moment. “Maybe p>
Julian agreed.
“For five years,” Gil said, “we believed that waiting was supporting her p>
“But if something happens again,” Nate added, “we won’t wait for her to call. We won’t try to control her. We just want to be there for her p>
Franz nodded. “That’s enough p>
Outside the private room, music played softly, and the bar remained busy. Inside, the mood was calm but clear. Five years ago, they thought she would handle it and move on. They didn’t expect her to stay away.
She had returned, not to regain old structure or to recreate the past, but to be present. She was married and in a new position.
Gil finally lifted his glass and took a slow sip before setting it down near the edge of the table.
“We move forward,” he said.
Franz did not respond in kind. He didn’t need to.
“Yes,” he replied.
No one mentioned the empty chair. No one suggested filling it.