Chapter 17: Too Late for Regret

The arrest of Richard Erickson sent shockwaves through the country.

For days, every news channel discussed the same story.

The reopened investigation.

The financial conspiracy.

The possibility that two powerful businessmen had profited from murder.

But for Cole Compton, none of those headlines mattered.

There was only one thing he couldn't stop thinking about.

June.

The mansion felt emptier with each passing day.

No breakfast waiting on the table.

No soft footsteps in the hallway.

No light left on at night.

For years, he never noticed the small things she did.

Now the silence was unbearable.

Cole sat alone in his study.

A glass of whiskey rested untouched beside him.

His phone displayed a photograph taken five years earlier.

June was smiling at him.

Looking at him as though he were the center of her world.

He couldn't remember the last time someone looked at him that way.

And he knew no one ever would again.

A knock interrupted his thoughts.

Sarah entered.

"Mr. Compton, your father has been taken into federal custody."

Cole closed his eyes.

The news should have shocked him.

Instead, he felt strangely numb.

"Any statement from his attorneys?"

"No."

"What about the board?"

"They've officially removed all remaining family authority from the company."

Everything was gone.

The empire.

The influence.

The legacy.

Years of power disappearing in weeks.

"You should go home, Sarah," Cole said quietly.

"There's nothing left to manage."

Meanwhile, across Manhattan, June attended a private charity gala.

This time she wasn't watching from a hospital bed.

This time she was the guest of honor.

Business leaders approached constantly.

Investors wanted meetings.

Scientists wanted collaborations.

Journalists requested interviews.

June handled them all effortlessly.

The shy housewife was gone.

The woman standing here belonged in rooms like this.

"Miss Erickson."

June turned.

A familiar face approached.

Daniel Mercer.

A renowned biotech entrepreneur and philanthropist.

"Congratulations," Daniel said.

"On what?"

"Surviving."

June laughed softly.

"That seems like a strange thing to congratulate someone for."

"Not when most people would have broken."

For a moment, they simply smiled at each other.

The interaction was innocent.

Friendly.

Normal.

Something June hadn't experienced in years.

Unfortunately, someone else was watching.

Cole.

He had come to the event hoping to speak with her.

Just once.

Just long enough to explain.

To apologize.

To say something.

Anything.

Instead, he stood across the ballroom watching June laugh with another man.

The sight hit harder than he expected.

Because she looked happy.

Genuinely happy.

And for the first time, he realized she hadn't looked that way during their marriage.

Not for years.

Eventually, June noticed him.

Their eyes met across the room.

The conversation around her faded.

The music disappeared.

For several seconds, neither moved.

Then Cole slowly approached.

"June."

"Cole."

The simple exchange felt strangely formal.

Like strangers meeting for the first time.

"Can we talk?"

June considered it.

Then nodded.

They stepped onto a private terrace overlooking the city.

The skyline sparkled beneath the night sky.

Cole stared at her.

For a moment, he struggled to find words.

"You look well," he finally said.

"Thank you."

"I heard about Richard."

"So did the entire country."

A painful silence followed.

"June..."

"I know an apology won't change anything."

"You're right."

The honesty hurt.

But he deserved it.

"I was wrong," Cole admitted.

"About everything."

"About Alycia."

"About you."

"About us."

June listened quietly.

No anger.

No tears.

No emotion at all.

That frightened him more than hatred ever could.

"When you called me that night..."

His voice cracked slightly.

"I should have answered."

"Yes."

"I should have come."

"Yes."

"I should have believed you."

"Yes."

Each answer felt like another knife.

Because they were true.

"I don't expect forgiveness."

"Good."

"Because I can't give it."

Cole lowered his head.

The words hurt.

But not as much as what came next.

"I don't hate you anymore, Cole."

His eyes lifted.

"You don't?"

"No."

"Then maybe someday—"

"No."

The single word ended the thought instantly.

"I don't hate you," June repeated.

"I simply don't love you anymore."

The world seemed to stop.

For years, Cole believed June's love was unconditional.

Permanent.

Unbreakable.

Now he finally understood.

He had broken it himself.

And some things couldn't be repaired.

A tear formed in the corner of his eye.

He quickly looked away.

"I miss you," he whispered.

June looked at the city lights.

"You miss the person who loved you."

"That's not the same thing."

Cole couldn't argue.

Because she was right.

When June finally walked back inside the ballroom, she never looked back.

Cole remained alone on the terrace.

Watching the woman he once took for granted disappear into a future that no longer included him.

And for the first time, he truly understood what loss felt like.