Chapter 6 - The Letter Thomas Never Received
Thomas refused to open James Mercer’s letter in front of Lauren.
For once, she respected his choice.
He called six hours later.
His voice sounded destroyed.
“James apologized.”
Lauren stood in her apartment kitchen.
“For firing you?”
“For everything.”
Thomas breathed unevenly.
“He said I had been the only person in the company willing to put the numbers ahead of the family name.”
Lauren said nothing.
“He wrote that he should have protected me.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
The answer surprised her.
Thomas continued.
“He admitted that.”
Lauren leaned against the counter.
“What else?”
“He said Adrian had discovered Mom’s diagnosis.”
Lauren closed her eyes.
Of course he had.
“James believed Adrian used that information to pressure the settlement.”
“How?”
“He told James that if I fought publicly, Mercer Ridge would bury me in litigation until the medical debt took our house.”
Lauren gripped the counter.
“Did Dad know Adrian threatened you?”
“No.”
“Then how—”
“James found an internal memo later.”
Thomas swallowed.
“He didn’t know until after I signed.”
Lauren felt rage rise.
“Why didn’t he come back to you?”
“He did.”
“What?”
“Six months later.”
Thomas’s voice cracked.
“He offered to help me challenge the agreement.”
Lauren stared.
“You never told me.”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you accept?”
“Because your mother was responding to treatment. We had stability again.”
“You chose not to reopen it.”
“Yes.”
Another choice made from fear.
Not cowardice exactly.
But fear.
It had shaped both families for decades.
Thomas continued.
“James wrote that if Adrian ever approached me again, I should go straight to Caleb.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I no longer trusted Mercers.”
Lauren laughed bitterly.
“Except when one offered money.”
Thomas took the blow.
“Yes.”
Lauren closed her eyes.
Silence stretched.
Then Thomas said:
“I have something Adrian doesn’t know I have.”
Lauren opened her eyes.
“What?”
“A recording.”
Her heart accelerated.
“When?”
“Two weeks after your engagement.”
Thomas explained.
Adrian had invited him to a private dining room.
Thomas had already accepted the second payment.
By then guilt had become unbearable.
He turned on his phone recorder before entering.
The recording was legal under Colorado’s one-party consent rule because Thomas participated in the conversation.
Lauren, as a lawyer, knew that.
“What did he say?”
Thomas hesitated.
“Come over.”
“I don’t want—”
“Lauren.”
Something in his voice stopped her.
“Please.”
She drove to his house alone.
For the first time since the wedding, Thomas did not try to hug her.
He sat at the dining table where Lauren had done homework as a teenager.
Her mother’s ceramic bowl still sat near the window.
Thomas placed his phone between them.
Then pressed play.
Adrian’s voice came through clearly.
Calm.
Cultured.
Almost friendly.
You’re overthinking this, Tom. They love each other.
Thomas’s recorded voice answered:
Then why are you paying me?
Because love is unreliable. Incentives aren’t.
Lauren’s skin went cold.
Thomas said:
She’s my daughter.
Adrian laughed softly.
Exactly. Which means once she’s married to Caleb, you will think about consequences before resurrecting ancient accusations.
And if I don’t?
A pause.
Then Adrian:
Then everyone will know you took money from me while steering your daughter toward my nephew. How credible do you think your financial accusations will look after that?
Lauren closed her eyes.
Thomas had known.
By the second payment, he fully understood the trap.
The recording continued.
You’re making her part of this without her consent.
Adrian replied:
You did that when you took the first check.
Thomas stopped the recording.
Lauren stared at him.
“That’s why you recorded it.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me then?”
“Because I was ashamed.”
Lauren stood.
“There’s that word again.”
“I know.”
“No. You keep using shame to explain silence after silence.”
Thomas’s eyes filled.
“I was afraid if I told you, I’d lose you.”
“And instead?”
He looked down.
“You lost me anyway.”
The words hurt both of them.
Lauren walked toward the door.
Thomas did not stop her.
Then she turned.
“Why accept the final payment?”
He swallowed.
“To prove the pattern continued.”
Lauren stared.
“You expect me to believe you took a quarter million dollars as evidence?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I took it because part of me still wanted the money.”
The honesty stopped her.
Thomas continued.
“And because another part of me knew refusing it would make Adrian cautious.”
Lauren remained by the door.
“I put it in a separate account. I haven’t touched it.”
“That does not make you noble.”
“I know.”
“What will you do with it?”
“Whatever counsel says preserves evidence. After that, I want it returned or used for restitution.”
Lauren studied him.
For years her father had been the moral center of her childhood.
He had taught her never to sign a document she had not read.
Never to confuse desperation with entitlement.
Never to sell tomorrow to make today easier.
Then life had tested him with medical debt and fear, and he had failed his own lessons.
Lauren hated discovering that adults could teach truths they did not always live.
But perhaps that was adulthood.
She opened the door.
Thomas spoke behind her.
“Lauren.”
She stopped.
“I never told you to say yes when Caleb proposed.”
Lauren looked back.
“I know.”
“You called me before answering.”
“I remember.”
“You asked if I thought you were ready.”
“And you said I was.”
“I meant it.”
She stared.
“That is the problem.”
Thomas looked confused.
“I don’t know which parts of your advice were yours anymore.”
His face crumpled.
Lauren left.
Outside, Caleb was sitting in his car.
She stopped.
He got out slowly.
“I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Your dad called me.”
Lauren laughed once.
“Of course.”
Caleb raised both hands slightly.
“He asked me to pick up a copy of the recording for counsel.”
Lauren looked at him.
“You heard it?”
“No.”
“Good.”
He nodded.
She should have walked away.
Instead she asked:
“Did you really love me before you knew my father mattered?”
Caleb’s face tightened.
“Yes.”
“How can I know?”
“You can’t.”
The answer surprised her.
He continued.
“I can’t prove a feeling by producing cleaner evidence than Adrian’s scheme.”
Lauren looked away.
“So what do we do?”
“I don’t know.”
Caleb stepped closer, still leaving space.
“But I won’t ask you to marry me while you’re asking whether the proposal was yours.”
Her eyes filled.
He swallowed.
“If we end, Adrian doesn’t get blamed for that either. We decide.”
Lauren looked at him.
There it was.
The one thing everyone else had taken from her.
Choice.
Caleb reached into his pocket.
Her engagement ring rested in his palm.
She had left it in the bridal suite.
“I wasn’t sure what to do with this.”
Lauren took it.
For a moment he looked hopeful.
Then she closed his fingers around it again.
“Keep it.”
His face fell.
“Until I know.”
Caleb nodded.
“No pressure.”
She almost smiled.
May you like
“That phrase has never sounded more romantic.”
---
