Chapter 10: The Apology I Never Needed

Gina refused to speak to the police until she spoke to me.

That was how I found myself inside a private interview room at St. Vincent's Hospital with Thayer waiting outside the door.

Gina sat beneath a thin blanket.

Without makeup, without her smug smile, she looked younger.

Smaller.

Still dangerous.

"You came," she said.

"You asked."

"I thought you would want to see me like this."

"Why?"

"Because I would have wanted to see you broken."

At least she was honest.

I sat across from her.

"What do you want?"

Gina looked at the observation window.

"Protection."

"From Senator Cross?"

"From him, from Derek, from Bastian's parents, from everyone."

"I do not control any of them."

"Thayer does."

"Thayer is not my weapon."

She laughed weakly.

"You really are different from me."

"That is not a compliment I need."

Her eyes hardened.

For a moment, the old Gina returned.

"Bastian always chose me."

"Until he had nothing left."

"He still came when I called."

"And then you left him to face the consequences alone."

She looked away.

"You don't understand us."

"I understand perfectly. You needed to prove you mattered more. He needed someone who never expected him to grow up."

The words landed.

Gina's face crumpled, but I did not mistake pain for innocence.

"Did you leak the recording?" I asked.

"The private one? No."

"Who has it?"

"Derek copied everything. Senator Cross's people have it too."

"And the package sent to my house?"

"I arranged that before the airport. I thought the threat would make you pressure the Wilsons to drop the charges."

"You were willing to expose me to save yourself."

"I was desperate."

"You were cruel before you were desperate."

She flinched.

Silence stretched between us.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

I had imagined those words.

I had thought they might satisfy something in me.

They did not.

"Are you sorry you did it," I asked, "or sorry it failed?"

Gina did not answer.

That was answer enough.

"I will not ask Thayer to protect you," I said. "But I will tell the police you cooperated and that your evidence helped expose the people who took you."

"That's it?"

"That is more fairness than you gave me."

I stood.

"Meredith."

I paused at the door.

"Bastian loves you," she said.

"No. Bastian loves what I gave him."

"He talks about you constantly."

"Regret is not love."

I left her with the truth.

Bastian was waiting in the corridor.

His face lit with hope when he saw me.

"Did she apologize?"

"Yes."

"Then maybe we can fix this."

I stared at him.

"How did you make that conclusion?"

"Gina admitted she was wrong. I admitted I was wrong. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I wanted you to respect me before everything was destroyed."

"I can now."

"Because your parents disowned you? Because Gina disappeared? Because the world heard what you said about trapping me?"

His face tightened.

"I made mistakes."

"You made choices."

"Stop saying that like there is no difference."

"There isn't when you repeat them."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the engagement ring I had returned.

"I kept it."

"You should sell it. You need the money."

Pain flashed across his face.

"You were never this cruel."

"I learned from you."

The words were harsher than I intended.

But I did not apologize.

Thayer stepped forward.

"The conversation is over."

Bastian looked at him with open hatred.

"You think you won?"

"She is not a prize."

"You were waiting for us to fail."

"I was waiting for her to stop accepting less than she deserved."

Bastian turned to me.

"And you believe him?"

I looked at Thayer.

He had never asked me to humiliate Bastian.

Never demanded that I prove loyalty.

Never used his patience as a debt.

"Yes," I said.

The answer broke something in Bastian.

He closed his hand around the old ring.

"You will regret this."

"I already regret staying as long as I did."

He walked away.

Thayer waited until the elevator doors closed.

"Are you all right?"

"No."

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"No."

He nodded, accepting both answers.

"Then what do you want?"

I looked at him.

Eight days earlier, I had accepted his ring because I wanted an exit.

Now I understood why he had given me thirty days.

He wanted a choice made without panic.

I removed the ring.

His face went still.

"Meredith—"

I held it out to him.

"The trial engagement is over."

He did not take it.

"I see."

"No, you don't."

I stepped closer.

"I don't want to wear a ring because I am escaping Bastian."

Thayer's eyes searched mine.

"Then why do you want to wear it?"

"Because I am choosing you."

For the first time since I had known him, Thayer Sinclair looked completely stunned.

"You still have twenty-two days," he said.

"I don't need them."

"You are certain?"

"Ask me properly."

His expression softened.

Then he took the ring from my palm and lowered himself onto one knee in the hospital corridor.

Nurses stopped.

Visitors stared.

I laughed through sudden tears.

"Meredith Hale," he said, "will you marry me because you want a life with me, not because you are running from anyone else?"

"Yes."

He slid the ring back onto my finger.

The applause around us was embarrassing.

The happiness was not.

Thayer rose and kissed my forehead.

"No dramatic wedding," I warned.

"That may be difficult."

"Why?"

His phone began ringing.

He checked the message and sighed.

"Because someone photographed the entire proposal."

By the time we reached the elevator, the image was already online.

This time, I did not mind being seen.