Part 7: A Toast to New Beginnings
By Friday, New Year's Eve was fast approaching, and the winter air outside was crisp, clear, and freezing.
Marcus had insisted on taking Wren and me out for a celebratory dinner at a high-end downtown restaurant overlooking the city square, where ice skaters glided across a illuminated rink below. It was our way of closing the chapter on a brutally difficult year and stepping into a future that belonged entirely to us.
We were seated at a quiet booth near the window, sharing a platter of artisan appetizers, when my phone chimed with a notification. It wasn't a call this time, but an email from an unfamiliar legal firm representing my father.
I opened it out of sheer curiosity and scanned the contents.
Dear Maren Vale, We are writing on behalf of your father, Grant Vale, and your mother, Celeste Vale, to formally petition for mediation regarding the rescinded financial agreements...
I let out a soft scoff, turning the phone screen toward Marcus. "Look at this. They’re trying to hire mediation lawyers to sue me for breach of verbal agreement."
Marcus glanced at the email, chuckled, and handed the phone back. "Good luck to them. Verbal agreements regarding real estate and financial bailouts are legally unenforceable under the statute of frauds. Plus, given that the funds were tied to a fraudulent conspiracy involving Beckett's company, any lawyer who takes their case will likely end up disbarred for obstruction."
"They really thought they were untouchable," I murmured, watching a group of children chase each other across the ice rink outside. "For my entire life, Mom and Talia treated me like I existed just to be their emotional punching bag and financial backup plan. I thought... I thought if I just worked hard enough, if I was good enough, they would finally love me the way they loved Talia."
Marcus reached across the table, placing his warm hand over mine.
"Maren, look at me," he said gently, his gray eyes steady and fierce. "They didn't know how to love Callum either. They only know how to consume. You spent thirty-four years trying to earn a prize that was never real. But you broke the cycle. You did it for yourself, and more importantly, you did it so Wren never has to grow up believing she has to buy affection to be worthy of it."
I felt a lump form in my throat, but it wasn't a lump of sadness. It was the overwhelming release of a burden I had carried my entire life. I squeezed his hand back, smiling through a sudden mist of tears.
"Thank you, Marcus," I whispered. "For everything."
Across the table, Wren piped up, waving her fork around like a wand. "Can we get triple chocolate cheesecake for dessert? Uncle Marcus promised infinite sugar if I behaved during dinner!"
May you like
Marcus laughed out loud, leaning back in his seat. "I did make that legal guarantee, didn't I? Alright, bug, triple chocolate cheesecake it is. We're celebrating the end of an era."
And celebrate we did. When the waiter brought out the massive slice of cheesecake drizzled in hot fudge, Wren took the first bite and declared it the best thing she had ever tasted in her entire life. We spent the rest of the dinner laughing, talking about our plans for the upcoming year, and mapping out a spring road trip to the mountains—something Callum and I had always talked about doing but never quite managed to schedule.
