PART 74
The aftermath of the meeting was harder than any of us anticipated.
That night, Maya woke up screaming.
David and I were in our bedroom when we heard the terrified shrieks echoing down the hallway.
We were out of bed and in her room in seconds.
Maya was sitting up, thrashing against her blankets, her eyes wide and unseeing.
“Go away!” she cried.
“Don’t leave me!”
David immediately sat on the edge of the bed and gently but firmly held her shoulders.
“Maya, you are safe,” he said, his voice a deep, grounding anchor.
“Look at me.”
“You are in your room.”
“I am right here.”
“Mom is right here.”
She focused on his face, her breathing ragged and shallow.
“He left me once,” she sobbed, collapsing against David’s chest.
“What if he leaves me again?”
I climbed onto the bed and wrapped my arms around both of them, creating a tight, secure cocoon.
“He might,” I said, choosing radical honesty over a comforting lie.
“People who have been sick sometimes relapse.”
“But that is about him, not about you.”
“You are lovable, Maya.”
“You are worthy of being stayed for.”
“And even if he fails, we will not.”
“We are your forever.”
David kissed the top of her head, his own tears silently soaking into her hair.
“We are your forever,” he repeated, his voice thick with absolute conviction.
We stayed like that until the sun rose, holding her through the nightmares, proving with our physical presence that we were not going anywhere.
PART 75
While we navigated the emotional minefield of Maya’s past, my professional life reached a critical, exhilarating peak.
The CEO of the Austin Tech Hub announced his retirement, and the board of directors approached me with an unprecedented offer.
They wanted me to step into the role of Chief Operating Officer, with a clear path to CEO within two years.
It was the pinnacle of my career.
It came with a massive salary increase, a corner office, and the power to reshape the entire company.
But it also came with a catch.
The role required extensive international travel, often leaving me gone for weeks at a time.
I brought the offer home and laid the contract on the dining table.
David read it over a cup of coffee, his expression unreadable.
“This is everything you have worked for,” he said finally.
“It is,” I agreed.
“But the travel…”
“I know,” I said, my voice tight with anxiety.
“I would be gone a lot.”
“I would miss Maya’s soccer games.”
“I would miss our Sunday dinners.”
“I would be asking you to carry the entire domestic load.”
I braced myself, waiting for the old David to resurface.
Waiting for the insecurity, the resentment, the subtle guilt-tripping about me prioritizing my career over my family.
Instead, David smiled.
It was a bright, genuine, supportive smile.
“Chloe, look at me,” he said.
I met his eyes.
“I married a powerhouse,” he said proudly.
“I married a woman who is brilliant and driven.”
“I am not going to be the anchor that holds you back from your destiny.”
“I will handle the house.”
“I will handle Maya’s schedule.”
“I will make sure you have a soft place to land when you get home.”
“You take this job.”
“You take it, and you are going to be the best COO this company has ever seen.”
I stared at him, my heart swelling with a love so profound it brought tears to my eyes.
“Are you sure?” I asked, needing to hear it one more time.
“I have never been more sure of anything in my life,” he replied.
