Chapter 2 - The Ghost of Seven Years Ago
The pen Naomi placed on the table felt heavier than a lead weight.
"Sign it, Andrew," she said quietly. "Let's finish what you started seven years ago."
I looked at the document, then down at the two little girls. Ava was quietly twirling her silver bracelet, while Sophie looked at the half-eaten dessert on my table with innocent curiosity. They didn't hate me. They didn't even know me well enough to hate me. I was just a man in an expensive suit holding up their dinner.
"No," I said, my voice suddenly finding a trace of strength.
Naomi’s eyes narrowed, the warmth instantly leaving her face. "Excuse me?"
"I won't sign it," I said, standing up from the table. "Not like this. Not in the middle of a restaurant, and not without talking to you first. I... I know what I did was unforgivable, Naomi. I lived with that cowardice every day, even when I tried to pretend it didn't exist. But I am not going to sign a document that permanently closes the door on ever knowing my daughters."
"You closed that door seven years ago!" Naomi’s voice cracked, a sudden flash of raw, human anger breaking through her polished, billionaire exterior. "You left me with forty-two dollars in my bank account, Andrew! I had to work three jobs while carrying twins, sleeping on a mattress on the floor of a damp basement! You don't get to have a change of heart now because it suits your conscience!"
The restaurant patrons were staring openly now. But I didn't care about my reputation anymore. I didn't care that Caroline had walked out, or that my partners at the firm would hear about this by morning.
"I will sign the waiver for the trust," I said, looking Naomi dead in the eye. "I don't want a single penny of my father's estate. It belongs to them. But I want a chance. I want to buy you and the girls dinner. I want to talk. If, after that, you still want me to sign the abandonment acknowledgment... I will. But give me one hour of your time."
Naomi stared at me, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. She searched my face, looking for the selfish, terrified boy who had run away to New York.
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"One hour, Andrew," she said, her voice dropping to a low, warning whisper. "Tomorrow at four o'clock. My office at Carter Tech Headquarters. If you are even a minute late, my lawyers will drag you through every court in Illinois."
Without waiting for a reply, she took Ava and Sophie’s hands and turned toward the exit. As they walked away, Sophie looked back over her shoulder one last time, her small gray eyes locked onto mine until she disappeared into the Chicago night.
