The week before the wedding, he tried to tell me something.
“Claire, I need to tell you something.”
Before he could finish, Sophie ran into the kitchen.
He never tried again.
He should have.
Our wedding was small. But Ethan looked miserable throughout it.
That night, I found him crying on our bed.
“You have no idea who you really married,” he whispered.
“What happened?”
“Michael should’ve told you.”
The next morning, Ethan was sitting at the kitchen table with a folded document.
“You need to know why he really asked us to do this.”
The document concerned Michael’s company.
After Michael died, Ethan had received temporary voting control of the company. Our marriage made that control permanent.
“You’ve been running Michael’s company this whole time?”
“Yes.”
“And marrying me made sure no one could take that control away from you?”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“You married me for his company.”
“No.”
But I left anyway.
The next morning, I went to Mr. Harris’s office.
“I want everything,” I told him. “Everything about Michael’s shares, Ethan, and the marriage condition.”
Mr. Harris explained that Ethan did control the voting rights, but he couldn’t sell or transfer the shares or touch the principal. The profits belonged to trusts for me and the children.
“So Ethan gets nothing?”
“He receives his salary for managing the company. Nothing more.”
“Then why give him control?”
Mr. Harris hesitated.
“Michael believed that once he was gone, you’d sell.”
“He thought I was incapable of learning?”
“He thought you’d be overwhelmed. Three children, work, and a company you knew nothing about. He believed selling would feel safest.”
“And instead of asking me?”
“He made sure you couldn’t.”
That hurt because it sounded exactly like Michael.
Then Mr. Harris revealed something else.
