Page 8 of The Breakup Broker

“Don’t tell me you’re still—” He lowered his glass hard enough to slosh the amber liquid over the edge. “For God’s sake, Henry. It’s been five years. Let it go.”

Five years, two months, and thirteen days. Not that I was counting.

“The Honeysuckers,” he spat the name like a curse, “would never fit into our world. The Kingstons have married Vanderbilts, Carnegies, and Astors. We don’t marry ...Honeysuckers.” He laughed, cruel and sharp. “Lord, how does one even become a Honeysucker?”

The name hit me like a physical blow, bringing with it the memory of Savvy’s laugh as she’d told me the story. We’d been in her family’s garage at the marina, watching her father work on Mrs. Patterson’s ancient Volvo while the scent of salt and motor oil filled the air. He worked on cars and boats there, the space cluttered with everything from rusted-out engines to half-finished skiffs.

I turned to my father. “Honigsucher,” I said, the word foreign but familiar on my tongue. “They were beekeepers in Germany. It means honey seekers—before Ellis Island got creative with the spelling?—”

“I don’t need a history lesson on peasant surnames.” My father’s voice sliced through the air. “I need you to do your duty to this family. Caroline’s father called again this morning.”

I swallowed the scotch, letting it burn. “I’m meeting Caroline for coffee tomorrow.”

“Coffee?” He barked out a laugh. “You’re not meeting her for coffee, you’re meeting her to propose. It’s time, Henry. Past time.” He moved to the portrait wall, straightening a frame that didn’t need straightening. “The merger documents are ready. The press release is drafted. All you need is the ring.”

“You mean the ring is all you require.”

“Watch yourself.” His voice dropped to that dangerous register I remembered from childhood. “I’ve been more than patient with your ... reluctance. But the Ashworths won’t wait forever. Do you think you’re the only suitable match for Caroline?”

“Maybe she should find someone who loves her.”

He turned, those Kingston-blue eyespiercing right through me. “Love? Is that what you think you had with that mechanic’s daughter? That little dreamer who thought she could build a wedding business with her equally delusional friends?”

The memory of Savvy’s dreams twisted in my chest. She’d had it all planned—the three of them spreading happiness across New York, one wedding at a time. I’d also believed in that dream until my father had made his plans crystal clear.

“One phone call to the building department, Henry. That’s all it would take. Their quaint little bookstore would be buried in violations—safety hazards, code infractions, structural concerns. They’d be shut down before they could even file an appeal. And the marina? I buy that property, raise the rent on Paul’s repair shop, and just like that—her family loses everything. Their businesses, their future—gone in an instant. It’d be a rounding error in our quarterly report.”

I’d made my choice that night. Walked away. Disappeared from her life without a word. Because the alternative—watching my father systematically destroy her family—would have killed me. Better to break her heart quickly than watch her world crumble piece by piece.

“You made the right choice then.” My father’s voice pulled me back to the present, reading my thoughts with that unnerving precision he possessed. “I was proud of you that day.”

“You didn’t give me much choice.” The words sat heavy on my tongue, dry and bitter, like ash after a fire.

“I gave you exactly the choice you needed.” He moved to the wall, swinging aside a portrait to reveal the safe. “And I still do. Don’t forget that.”

The safe door swung open with a whisper of expensiveengineering. My father reached inside and pulled out a black velvet box that screamed old money and older expectations.

“A five-carat cushion cut.” He opened the box, letting the diamond catch the light. “Both family crests are engraved inside the band.”

My stomach lurched. This wasn’t just a ring—it was a collar, perfectly sized and waiting. “You bought an engagement ring without telling me?”

“I made an investment in our future.” He held the box out like a challenge. “The future you’re going to secure tomorrow morning.”

All I could think about was the ring I’d picked out for Savvy five years ago. It was vintage, warm rose gold that reminded me of sunset on the Hudson and a stone that sparkled like her eyes when she laughed. I’d spent months searching for something as unique as she was.

"The Ashworths expect the announcement by week’s end." He set the box on his desk with the finality that had crushed better men than me. "Their PR team is coordinating with ours. Caroline’s father and I agree—the Four Seasons, an intimate dinner, a handpicked guest list. The society papers will eat it up."

“And if I say no?”

His expression could have frozen hell. “Then I make that call. How long do you think Paul Honeysucker can keep his family afloat once I own that marina? How many books can they sell when that Victorian gets condemned?” He leaned forward, hands flat on the desk. “And you? How far will you get in this industry when I blacklist you? The Kingston name cuts both ways, son. It can open doors—or slam them shut forever.”

Five years and nothing had changed. He still held all the power, and we both knew it.

I snatched the ring box off his desk, shoving it into my pocket as I stormed out. My mother stood in the hallway, elegant as always in Chanel, looking like she’d been waiting. Maybe she had been—she’d developed a sixth sense over the years for when these father-son chats went nuclear. She’d been doing this dance for years, standing in hallways, smoothing over Richard’s ultimatums, trying to protect me the only way she could—with quiet warnings and timed interventions. She was the first to notice Savvy’s effect on me, the one who lit up when I brought home books from River Bend, and the one who told me once that some things were worth more than the Kingston name.

“Henry.” She touched my arm. “Don’t let him?—”

“How do you do it, Mom?” The words came out rougher than I intended. “How do you stand being married to him?”

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