“That’s not how I’d see it.” “But it’s how I’d see it, and I have to live with myself, Nathan. That’s all I’ve got left, my self-respect. Take that away and what am I?” Nathan wanted to argue, wanted to point out that self-respect didn’t pay mortgages or send daughters to college, but he could see in Marcus’s face that this wasn’t a rational position. It was something deeper, more fundamental. A man drawing a line and refusing to cross it, even if it cost him everything. It was infuriating and admirable in equal measure.
From the doorway, Alicia’s voice was small and broken. “Dad?” They both turned. She was standing there with tears running down her face, and Nathan realized she’d heard everything. “Dad, if I just defer for a year—” “No,” Marcus said immediately. “Absolutely not.” “But I could work, save up—” “You’re going to college, Alicia. That’s not negotiable.” He crossed to her and pulled her into a hug. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. Your mama made me promise I’d get you there, and I’m keeping that promise.”
Nathan watched them, father and daughter holding each other against the weight of impossible circumstances, and felt something twist in his chest. This was what he’d been watching for the past three days, this fierce love and commitment that didn’t depend on money or circumstances or anything external. This was family in the truest sense, and he had destroyed it.
Nathan set his coffee cup down carefully on the table. “I should go,” he said. “The doctor cleared me yesterday. I’ve imposed on your hospitality long enough.” Marcus pulled back from Alicia, wiping his eyes quickly. “You sure you’re okay to travel?” “I’m fine, and I’ve already caused you enough trouble.” “Nathan,” Marcus started, but Nathan was already moving toward the guest room to gather his few belongings.
Twenty minutes later, Nathan’s rental car, delivered by the insurance company the day before, was loaded with his things. He stood in the driveway with Marcus and Alicia, the morning sun already hot on his shoulders, and felt like he was making a terrible mistake, but couldn’t see any other choice. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything. For saving my life. For taking care of me. For showing me what real integrity looks like.”
Marcus shook his hand. “You take care of yourself.” Alicia hugged him, fierce and quick. “Goodbye, Nathan.” “Goodbye.” Nathan got in the car and drove away, watching them in the rearview mirror. Marcus with his arm around his daughter’s shoulders, both of them standing in front of their small farmhouse, facing a future that looked increasingly impossible.
And he made it exactly three miles down the road before he had to pull over because he couldn’t see through his tears. He sat there on the shoulder of a Kansas county road, his hands gripping the steering wheel, and finally let himself feel the full weight of what he was running from, the first place he’d felt like he belonged in twenty years. The first people who’d seen him as something other than his net worth. The first real family, even borrowed and temporary, that he’d known since his mother died.
He was thirty years old, worth somewhere north of five hundred million dollars, and he was running away from the only thing that had made him feel like a human being instead of a bank account, because he was too scared to let himself want it. Nathan pulled out his phone and stared at it for a long time. Then he made a call to his lawyer and another to his accountant and a third to someone he’d done business with in Kansas City.