Page 34 of The Breakup Broker

“Everything you should have told her yourself.” Nosoftening of the blow. “About Richard’s threats. About the choice you made. About why you walked away.”

“I was protecting her.”

“No.” His voice gentled. “You were protecting yourself. From having to watch her fight back. From seeing her choose a battle you thought she couldn’t win.”

“She would have lost everything.”

“Maybe.” He adjusted his blanket, his movements deliberate. “Or maybe she would have surprised you. She surprised me today by sitting in that chair where you are now, hearing the truth and not breaking. Just getting stronger.” His gaze met mine. “The way she’s surprised everyone by building a life after you left—not the one she planned, but her own kind of determination.”

“How did she take it?”

“She said,” James added with a tilt of his head, “that she wasn’t surprised Richard Kingston would try to control everyone’s lives. But she was surprised you let him.”

The words cut through me, sharp and unyielding. Because that was Savvy—she never hesitated to strip away the layers, exposing the raw, undeniable truth. I had let my father dictate our lives, all while convincing myself I was safeguarding her.

“I’m an idiot,” I whispered.

“Yes.” James’s agreement came quickly. “But you’re an idiot who’s ready to fight back. That’s something.” He closed his eyes briefly. “Now the question is, what will you do about it?”

I looked down at the tablet. “I’m going to fix it.”

“No.” His voice sharpened. “You’re going to help her fix it. There’s a difference.” He reached for his phone one last time. “Which is why there’s one more call I have to make.”

I watched as he dialed a number from memory, his fingers moving with practiced ease.

“Paul?” he said after a moment. “James Morrison. Yes, it’s been too long. Listen, I need to tell you something about a potential offer for the marina...”

I sat there as my grandfather laid out the entire story—Richard’s efforts to manipulate property values and pressure Paul Honeysucker into selling. Paul’s responses were too quiet for me to hear, but the tight set of James’s jaw and the subtle shifts in his expression told me everything I needed to know.

When he hung up, he looked drained but satisfied. “Well, that’s done.”

“What did he say?” I asked, leaning forward.

James rubbed a hand over his face. “He said, ‘Leave the marina to me. But you tell that grandson of yours something for me.’”

I stilled, waiting.

“He said, ‘My daughter needs to hear all this from him—not from me. And tell him it’s about damn time he fought for her.’”

The words lingered, sharp and undeniable. Fought for her. I’d spent so long convincing myself that walking away was the best way to protect her, but maybe it was the easiest. James was right. It was time—past time. I wasn’t about to let my father win. Not this time.

James’s eyes clouded, the good moment fading. “Go,” he said. “You have a board meeting to prepare for, and I’m exhausted.”

I stood, gathering the tablet and the files he’d shared. It wasn’t mine to take, but its data was crucial—and James knew it as well as I did. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” His voice was growing fainter. “Just remember something for me, Henry.”

“Anything.”

“Your father thinks love is weakness. That it makes you vulnerable, gives people power over you.” His eyes drifted closed. “But genuine love? The kind that makes you fight even when you might lose? That’s the strongest power there is.”

I watched him sink deeper into his chair, today’s burst of energy taking its toll. Tomorrow would bring the board meeting, my father’s rage, and god only knew what else. But tonight, seeing the spark Savvy had brought back to my grandfather’s eyes, I understood what real strength looked like.

The lights of Manhattan winked at me as I gathered my things. Somewhere out there, my father was plotting his next move, believing money and fear could solve any problem.

But seeing how Savvy’s visit had transformed my grandfather, even for a few hours, I realized there might still be a way to protect everyone I loved. I had to convince her to trust me one more time.

I pulled out my phone, staring at her number. A silence that spanned half a decade, and now I was about to ask for the impossible. The irony wasn’t lost on me—I’d left to protect her, and she’d built a career around leaving to protect herself.

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