Chapter 5: A Letter

I hesitated, my instincts screaming at me to be cautious. This could be a trap, another way for Ethan to manipulate my emotions. But as I looked into his eyes, I saw something raw and honest—something that made me pause, despite everything.

 

“What is it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady even though my insides were churning.

 

Ethan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, worn envelope. He held it out to me, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that gave me pause.

 

I took the envelope, my fingers brushing against his as I did. The brief contact sent a jolt through me, a reminder of the tangled emotions I’d been trying so hard to bury. I looked down at the envelope, noticing the faded handwriting on the front, the ink blurred with age.

 

“Open it,” Ethan said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

With a deep breath, I slid my finger under the flap and carefully pulled out the contents. Inside was a single sheet of paper, yellowed with age, the edges frayed as if it had been unfolded and refolded many times. As I opened it, my eyes scanned the handwritten words, and my breath caught in my throat as I realized what I was holding.

 

It was a letter—a letter written nearly a decade ago. My father’s handwriting was unmistakable, each loop and curve painfully familiar. The words on the page began to unravel a truth I had never anticipated—a truth that shattered everything I thought I knew.

 

The letter was a confession—a desperate plea for forgiveness. My father wrote about the pressures he had faced, the decisions he had made under duress, and the regrets that had haunted him until the end. But what struck me the most was the part where he mentioned Ethan’s name—not with anger or blame, but with gratitude.

 

According to the letter, Ethan had tried to help him, had offered him a way out—a way to protect our family from the disaster that ultimately consumed us. But my father, proud and stubborn, had refused the help, believing he could resolve the situation on his own. It was a fatal mistake, one that had cost him everything.

 

My hands trembled as I finished reading, the letter slipping slightly from my grasp as the weight of the revelation settled over me. All this time, I had believed Ethan was the enemy, that he had played a role in my family’s downfall. But this letter told a different story—one in which Ethan had tried to do the right thing, only to be thwarted by circumstances beyond his control.

 

I looked up at him, my heart pounding, a thousand questions swirling in my mind. “You helped my father?” My voice was barely a whisper, laced with disbelief and confusion.

 

Ethan’s expression was filled with a sadness I hadn’t seen before. “I tried,” he admitted quietly. “But your father... he wouldn’t listen. He was determined to handle it on his own.”

 

“Why didn’t you show me this before?” My voice broke slightly as I spoke, the emotional weight of the situation pressing down on me.

 

Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Because I didn’t think you’d believe me. And because, until now, I didn’t think it would make a difference.”

 

I stared at him, struggling to process the implications of what I had just learned. Everything I had planned, everything I had worked for, had been based on a lie—a lie I had told myself for years. The rage that had fueled my every move now felt hollow, leaving me adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

 

“What do I do now?” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I felt lost, as if the ground had been ripped out from under me.

 

Ethan stepped closer, his presence steadying in the whirlwind of my emotions. “We start over,” he said quietly. “We find the truth together.”

 

I searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deception, but found none. For the first time in years, I felt a flicker of something other than anger or determination—something that felt dangerously like hope. But even as I considered the possibility of trusting Ethan, a part of me remained wary. Could I really rely on the man I’d spent so long hating?

 

And more importantly, could I trust myself to find out?

 

I clutched the letter tightly in my hands, my mind swirling with the newfound information. The words of my father echoed in my thoughts, challenging everything I had believed for so long. The room seemed to close in around me, the once spacious boardroom now feeling suffocating and oppressive.

 

Ethan watched me, his eyes filled with a mixture of empathy and regret. He understood what this revelation meant to me, how it shook the very foundation of the vendetta I had built my life around. But he also knew this was a moment of reckoning, a turning point that could change everything.

 

Finally, I looked up, meeting his gaze. “Why now?” I asked, my voice laced with confusion and pain. “Why are you showing me this now, after all these years?” A hint of anger crept into my tone, the emotions I’d been holding back threatening to spill over.

 

Ethan took a deep breath, his posture tense. “Because I’ve been living with the guilt of what happened for too long. I thought I could bury it, move on, but the truth has a way of resurfacing. And when I saw you again, I knew I couldn’t keep this from you any longer. You deserve to know what really happened.”

 

My heart pounded in my chest as I pushed away from him, walking a few steps back, trying to distance myself from the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I bit my lip, struggling to maintain control. “But what am I supposed to do with this? Everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve planned—it’s all based on a lie. I don’t know how to move forward from this.” My voice cracked with the weight of my despair.

 

Ethan stepped away as well, leaning over the table, his voice soft yet firm. “We move forward by finding the truth together. Whatever happened in the past, it’s not too late to make things right. But we have to do it together, Sophia. You don’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.”

 

My anger flared, and I snapped at him, my eyes filled with tears. “Alone? Are you going to be with me?” My voice trembled as I lashed out. “No, you are not, Ethan. Who are you to be with me in my problems?”

 

I turned sharply, heading to grab my bag and leave, but before I could reach it, Ethan was there, his hand gripping my arm. In one swift motion, he pulled me toward him, pressing me tightly against his chest.

 

“Who am I?” His voice was a low growl as he tilted my head up with the tip of his finger, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes burned with intensity, with something I hadn’t seen in him before—something that made my breath hitch.

 

“Then where were you?” I could feel my voice thick with emotion as I struggled to push him away. “Where were you when my father took his life because of that scandal? When your family was hatching plans to destroy mine? When my mother went into a coma from the shock, and then... then she died?” My voice broke, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore, the weight of my pain overwhelming me.

 

Ethan’s hand trembled, and he loosened his grip, his expression pained. “I wasn’t there, but I am now.” He didn’t try to hold me again, the hurt in his eyes clear. “I can’t change what happened, Sophia, but I can be here for you now.”

 

I wiped away the tears that had started to roll down my cheeks, sucking in a shaky breath. “Lily is my only family, and I have to protect her now.” My voice was determined, even as I struggled to regain my composure.

 

Ethan’s expression softened, a flicker of something like tenderness crossing his face. “Soph... let me help you,” he said quietly, the use of my old nickname causing my heart to ache. It had been so long since I’d heard him call me that.

 

The walls I had built around myself for years, the anger and isolation I had clung to, felt fragile and ready to crumble. The idea of letting someone else in—especially Ethan—was terrifying. I had spent so long guarding my heart, hiding my pain, that the thought of exposing myself felt almost impossible.

 

But as I looked into his eyes, I saw a sincerity that I couldn’t ignore.

 

Could I really trust him? Could I let go of my desire for revenge and work with the man I had once vowed to destroy?

 

The decision weighed heavily on me, the future uncertain and fraught with risk. Yet, as I stood there, on the precipice of a choice that could change everything, I realized that maybe—just maybe—I didn’t have to face it all alone.

 

But the question remained: Was I willing to take that leap of faith?