Chapter 6 - The Truth About That Night
One year after the hospital incident, a final piece of evidence emerged.
The hard drive from Julian contained an audio file that investigators had overlooked.
It was recorded three days before Noah's birth.
Margaret.
Julian.
And Nate's late father's former accountant.
They were discussing a trust created decades earlier.
The recording revealed that Blackwood Holdings had been designed to remain under family control only as long as the next generation remained stable.
If Nate married someone outside the family, the board could challenge the trust.
But Hannah's presence had complicated the plan.
She had her own family wealth.
Her own legal team.
Her own inheritance.
And most importantly, her father had invested in Blackwood Holdings.
Margaret had believed Hannah was slowly gaining too much influence.
That was why the attacks began.
Not because she was a bad wife.
Because she was independent.
The university incident.
The false rumors.
The sabotage.
Celeste.
Everything had been designed to make Nate distrust her.
The final stage was the baby.
A Blackwood heir gave Hannah legal protection.
So they needed the child gone.
Nate listened to the recording with Hannah.
His face went pale.
“I helped them.”
Hannah looked at him.
“How?”
“By staying with Celeste.”
“You didn't know.”
“But I chose not to know.”
He closed his eyes.
“That night, I saw your calls.”
“Yes.”
“I knew you needed me.”
“Yes.”
“And I still stayed.”
Hannah looked down.
“That truth hurts more than anything they did.”
“I know.”
He turned to her.
“I don't deserve another chance.”
She said nothing.
“I don't want one.”
She looked up.
“What?”
“I don't want a chance because you feel sorry for me.”
“You won't get one.”
He smiled faintly.
“I know.”
They sat together in silence.
Then Hannah asked:
“What would you do differently?”
He answered immediately.
“Come home.”
She looked at him.
“That's it?”
“No.”
He took a breath.
“I would listen.”
“Anything else?”
“I would believe that protecting you doesn't mean deciding for you.”
She nodded.
“That is different.”
“Yes.”
He reached for her hand.
Then stopped before touching it.
Hannah noticed.
“You can.”
He gently held her fingers.
They stayed like that.
No declarations.
No promises.
Just a hand in another hand.
Later that year, Nate asked Hannah to dinner.
It was their first dinner alone since the divorce.
No lawyers.
No family.
No business.
Just them.
They ate quietly.
Halfway through dessert, Nate said:
“I still love you.”
Hannah looked at him.
“I know.”
“I'm not asking anything.”
“I know.”
“I just wanted to say it without using it as pressure.”
She smiled.
“That was the right way.”
He laughed softly.
“I'm learning.”
After dinner, they walked beside the lake.
The wind was cold.
Hannah pulled her coat tighter.
Nate took off his scarf.
She refused.
“You'll be cold.”
“I've survived worse.”
She laughed.
He looked at her.
“I missed that.”
“What?”
“You laughing at me.”
She smiled.
“I used to do it more.”
“I know.”
They reached the car.
Nate opened the door.
Before she stepped inside, she looked at him.
“Maybe.”
He froze.
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe someday.”
She got into the car.
Nate stood in the snow.
For the first time in years, hope didn't make him reckless.
May you like
He simply smiled.
Maybe was enough.
