He Chose Her On Our Wedding Night So I Took Everything Chapter 40
That afternoon, the team brought the new season’s sample books into the conference room.
The cover was a deep blue, the color of lake water at dusk.
The lead designer asked me, “What are we calling this collection?”
I turned a few pages and landed on a particular swatch of fabric.
When I was twelve, the moment I woke after being pulled from the lake, all I wanted was to go back for the sample book I’d lost.
All these years later, I no longer needed anyone to tell me if that stubbornness was worth anything.
“Choice,” I said.
“We’re calling it Choice.”
On launch day, the showroom was packed with clients.
Someone recognized Wyatt and laughingly asked if it still took an appointment to see me.
He answered, perfectly serious, “During work hours, of course.”
Everyone laughed.
I came out of the conference room and set a cup of coffee in front of him.
“Mr. Winslow, do you have an appointment today?”
He took out his phone and showed me his calendar.
“Four o’clock this afternoon. Fifteen minutes.”
“Only fifteen minutes?”
“You have a supplier meeting at five.”
I sat down beside him.
Outside the window, the newly hung brand sign gleamed in the afternoon sun as staff placed the Choice collection in the display cases.
Marriage hadn’t made me anyone’s subordinate. It hadn’t stopped my work.
Wyatt still had his own career, and I still flew to every market that required my attention.
We argue. We rearrange plans. And before making a decision that affects the other, we ask first.
This isn’t a story about one person saving the other.
It’s simply about two whole people choosing to move forward, together.
My assistant came over to remind me that the European clients were on the video call.
I stood up.
Wyatt put the cap on my half-finished coffee.
“See you tonight?”
“Send me a message first.”
“Okay.”
I walked into the conference room, where sales data from cities around the world glowed on the screen.
A new sample book lay on the table, and my name was written on the first page.
Once, because of a lie, I thought I owed Eric my life.
Later, I finally understood that being saved doesn’t mean losing your right to choose, and being loved should never require you to surrender your boundaries.
The night I walked out of the Hawthorne house, I didn’t just cancel an appointment.
I took back the right to decide my own life.
Outside the door, the sunlight was brilliant.
Where the next season would take us, and what the next step would be—those choices were mine to make.