Page 117 of The Candlemaker

And I was wrong about it all.

I thought I admired Frankie’s independence and her strength. Her ingenuity and her determination. And I did. ButI fell in love with her confidence. Her self-worth. She never needed to prove who she was or what she deserved—never questioned it, even when it made her break her own heart.

Mom was right.I was a fucking fool.

“Mr. Collins…”

I blinked and realized I was still standing and staring vacantly at the words swimming on the paper in front of me. The deal. The death of my father’s company.

Mr. Thomas glanced at my half-brother and their lawyer and then looked back at me.“Is everything okay?”

“No.” I shook my head slowly. “Everything’s not okay.”

Their eyes went round. “Mr. Collins, we’ve reviewed the deal?—”

“The deal is off.” I picked up the packet of papers and tore it in half.

“Chandler, please.” Mark rose, addressing me out of desperation, his knuckles white at his sides, and I froze. His body trembled. “So, you’ll ruin us because of our father?”

That was the corner I’d backed them into—the choice either bankruptcy or being bought. And I no longer recognized the man who’d done that. I didn’t want to recognize him. And I didn’t want this to be part of the legacy my child would inherit.

“No.” I shook my head.“I have to go, but someone will reach out in the next day or two with the details and the deeds to the five properties I outbid you on. I’m signing them over to you, no strings attached.”

“What—”

“They’re yours. They should be enough to turn the company around.” I yanked my tie loose, grabbed my jacket, and headed for the door.

“Chandler—”

I turned at Mark’s voice and met his gaze. “Let’s do better,”I said, and as soon as I recognized the unspoken agreement in his eyes, I walked out of the room, shouting to Judy to call for my car as I jogged for the elevator.

I didn’t even take a second glance at my office—the room where I’d practically lived for a decade. I wasn’t coming back, and for the first time in days, I took a full breath.

“Chandler, what happened to the deal?” Tom answered on the first ring; I wasn’t surprised he already knew. I had a feeling he would be Judy’s second call after the valet.

“Fuck the deal,” I said, a crazed smile spreading over my face. “I don’t want his business, Tom, and I don’t want to ruin it either.”

“Chandler…”

“All this time, I thought to be better than him meant I had to be better at business. That I had to do more. Own more. Be worth more.” It sounded so stupid now. “But it’s none of that. None of that matters. I told Mark I was transferring over the deeds for the last five properties we took over; it should get them above water again.”

The tires squealed as I pulled out onto the street, heading straight for the highway.

“Are you there?”

“Yes.” He sniffed. “I’m sorry. I’m just…”

“Proud?”

“I’ve always been proud of you, Chandler. I wouldn’t have worked with you otherwise,” he said, his voice worn soft. “I’ve always been proud of you, but today…today, I get to be happy for you.”

My pulse galloped. For the first time in days, I felt alive. Hopeful. Filled with purpose.

“Tom…” I took a deep breath, one last knot still remaining in my chest. “Why do you think my father willed me the inn?”

I always saw the inn as a burden. A random, decrepit piece of real estate that he’d willed to me like a slap in the face—a reminder in death of how little I’d meant to him in life. But maybe it wasn’t that at all. Maybe he saw what I was willing to sacrifice to the grim shadows of success. Maybe he saw what I was becoming—that I was becoming like him. And maybe the inn was meant to make me reconsider.

“I think Geoff had a lot of regrets at the end, not unlike many of us do, but was smart enough to know what happened…what he’d done…it went beyond an apology,” Tom said, carefully parsing every word. “He knew what the inn meant to your mother. I think he hoped it could mean something more for you.”

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