He looked at me.
“Do you regret it?”
I thought about my answer.
“Some days.”
“That’s convenient.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“It would be convenient if I told you I had a perfect business reason and slept well every night.”
Randall said nothing.
“I didn’t sabotage you.”
“No.”
“But I also didn’t help you when I could have.”
“Correct.”
“And part of me enjoyed saying no.”
There it was.
The ugly part.
Randall looked surprised by the admission.
“That doesn’t make me proud.”
He nodded.
For a while neither of us spoke.
Then he said:
“I probably would’ve done worse.”
“That doesn’t make mine better.”
He laughed once.
“No, I suppose it doesn’t.”
The clinic stayed dead.
Some consequences do not reverse because people later become reflective.
That is another thing real stories rarely admit.
Marek returned to his own apartment eventually.
The room over my garage became empty again.
One evening, months later, I found an old pair of his sneakers still under the bed.
Size thirteen.
I remembered buying him size four.
Time is rude that way.
Herb came by my office the following spring for our annual review.
He slid papers toward me.
“Estate planning.”
“I hate those words.”
“You’re sixty-four.”
“I’m sixty-three.”
“You turn sixty-four in two months.”
“Then come back.”
Herb ignored me.
“You need to decide what Marek knows.”
I looked at him.
“He knows more now.”
“More is not a legal category.”
He turned pages.
“Company equity. Voting structure. Trusts. Succession.”
I sighed.
Danuta and I had always planned to handle those things later.
Later had arrived without her.
That night, I invited Marek to dinner.
Meatloaf.
Green beans.
Same kitchen where he first introduced Courtney.
After we ate, I brought out a binder.
Marek looked suspicious.
“What is that?”
“The truth.”
He stared.
“Everything?”
“Enough that Herb will stop harassing me.”
I showed him ownership.
Valuation ranges.
Insurance.
Trust structure.
Property.
Retirement accounts.
Business succession plans.
He did not react like a person being told he might someday inherit enormous wealth.
He reacted like a physical therapist being handed a complicated chart.
Questions.
Why this trust?
Who controls voting shares?
What happens if I don’t want the company?
Good question.
“What if Elise doesn’t want anything to do with it?”
“Also good.”
For two hours, we talked.
No mystery.
No modest phrases.
No “we’re comfortable.”
Numbers.
Facts.
Obligations.
By the end, Marek closed the binder.
“Thank you.”
“I should have done it earlier.”
“Yes.”