“I helped build it, Patricia,” I said calmly. “I think I’ll manage.”

I walked past her to my car, the coastal air feeling clean and sharp in my lungs.

Over the next few days, I stayed at the cottage with the children.

We walked along the beach, collecting smooth grey stones and watching the seagulls drift on the wind.

I watched Lily laugh as she chased a retreating wave, her boots splashing in the foam.

They were secure now; their college funds were protected, and their home was safe.

But I knew the quiet days in the coastal town were coming to an end.

To protect what I had won, I had to go back to the city.

I had to step back into the offices of Mercer Development, not as a silent partner’s wife, but as the person in charge.

I spent my evenings at the kitchen table, reviewing the company’s organizational charts and financial recovery plans.

The transition would be difficult, and the staff would be skeptical.

On Friday night, after the children were asleep, I sat with a cup of tea, looking at a draft of the corporate restructuring agreement.