Chapter 79
~ Octavia ~
Two days later, I found myself driving through the familiar, upscale streets of Soho. I was heading to my parents’ apartnt.
We hadn’t been on speaking terms for two long years—not since they treated my life like a bargain chip to save their sinking ship. But the weight of that malice had beco too heavy to carry. I was tired of the silence, and I realized that if I was going to put the shattered pieces of my life back together, I had to start by letting go of the grudges that anchored to the past.
Even though they hadn’t reached out once after Franklin cleared their debts, I didn’t want to fight anymore. To them, I had been a tool for financial survival; to , they were still my parents, and I wanted peace.
When I reached their door, my mother opened it, her eyes widening in genuine shock.
"Octavia?"
"Hello, Mom. Can I co in?"
She stared at for a beat, her expression unreadable, before stepping aside to swing the door open. Inside, I found my father in the living room, a newspaper halfway to his face. He froze when he saw , slowly lowering the paper as if he were seeing a ghost.
"Hello, Dad," I said as my mother joined us.
"What a pleasant surprise," my mother said, her voice tinged with a defensive edge. "Showing up here after two years."
I sat down, even though neither of them had offered. "I didn’t co here to fight or start an argunt," I told them calmly. "I ca to make peace, despite everything."
My mother scoffed, her old bitterness flaring.
"Weren’t you the one who couldn’t wait to leave Franklin? Why are you still married to him? Why haven’t we seen any news of a divorce?"
"That’s exactly why I’m here," I said, leaning forward. "I hated what you both did to —selling off to save your company. I tried to tell you I didn’t want it, but I stayed quiet because the fate of your legacy was in my hands. I sacrificed my happiness for yours, and the second Franklin saved you, you both vanished. No calls. No visits. Nothing."
My voice trembled as the years of suppressed hurt finally surfaced. "I was all alone. I wanted my father. I wanted my mother. Every day in that marriage, I felt like I was drowning, terrified I wouldn’t make it to the end of the contract. You were so selfish that it was only ever about the ’mighty’ Ben and Patricia Herman—never about Octavia, your daughter. It made so angry that I shut you out, and you didn’t even care enough to try and knock on the door."
I wiped a stray tear from my cheek. "Even now, you probably think you’re parents of the year, as if I owe you my life just because I’m your daughter."
My parents exchanged a long, heavy look.
"The most important reason I’m here," I continued, "is to tell you that I forgive you. I want to live in peace, without a grudge aging my soul. I want us to be a family again. If you don’t want that, tell now, and I’ll leave. You won’t have to worry about disturbing you again."
A thick silence filled the room. Finally, my father spoke, his voice cracked with emotion. "We don’t want that, Octavia. We don’t want you to be a stranger. You’re our blood."
"We admit it," my mother added, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. "We overstepped. We were selfish. We saw you getting older, and since you hadn’t dated anyone in eight years, we panicked. We saw the opportunity with Frederick’s proposal as a way to solve everything. We were more fixated on the company than on you, and for that, we are so sorry."
Hearing my mother apologize felt like a fever dream. I burst into tears, the last of the tension leaving my body.
"I wanted to see you," my father said, standing up. "But your mother insisted you needed to figure things out on your own. I shouldn’t have listened to her. I was a coward, and I’m sorry."
"It’s alright, Dad," I sobbed, wiping my eyes.
"All I wanted was to hear that. We can’t change the past, but we can move on. As long as there is forgiveness, we’ll be fine."
My mother walked over and pulled into a tight embrace. "I’m sorry, Octavia. My pride and my ego got in the way. I’m so sorry."
"I forgive you, Mom," I whispered.
I hugged my father next, feeling the familiar comfort of family return. We talked for a while—they asked about Frederick and ntioned seeing the news of Franklin’s inauguration as Executive Chairman. I played the part of the happy wife, congratulating him through gritted teeth while my heart felt like it was being shredded. I even agreed to stay for dinner, trying to convince myself that this peace was the blessing I deserved.
The next morning, I headed to work, the weight of my secret still heavy. By lunchti, my phone buzzed with a text from Victoria.
HEY OCTAVIA, CAN WE HAVE LUNCH PLEASE? AND ALSO WE NEED TO TALK.
I knew exactly what she wanted to talk about. We hadn’t spoken since I fled the resort, and while I appreciated the space, I knew Victoria wouldn’t let it go forever.
SURE. LET’S HAVE LUNCH AT OUR USUAL SPOT, I replied.
When I arrived at the restaurant, Victoria jumped up to hug . "I’ve missed you!"
"It’s only been three days, Vic," I said, sliding into the booth.
"Three days since you abruptly abandoned ," she reminded as we ordered.
Once the waiter left, she leaned in. "So, what happened?"
"It’s nothing, Vic," I said, shrugging.
"Bullshit. It’s definitely sothing. Tell ."
I sighed, looking down at my hands. "I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d say ’I told you so.’"
Victoria squinted, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern. "Why would I say that?"
"You were right, Vic. Franklin is still cheating on ." I put my fork down, my appetite vanishing instantly.
"What? Again?" Her eyes widened. "How do you know? Did he confess it to you?"
"No. Rember when my phone buzzed at the resort while I was talking to Mr. Rice?" I began, my voice shaking. "I received photos of Franklin naked, asleep in a bed. The text said ’trouble in paradise?’"
"Woah," Victoria breathed. "Who sent it?"
"A private number. I can’t trace it. But it doesn’t matter who sent it—I saw what I saw."
"Jeez, Octavia... this is huge." She shook her head, looking at sympathetically. "Are you okay?"
I shrugged, the pain in my chest tightening.
"Why would he do this? Is he just playing with ? What is his end goal?"
"I don’t know, Vic. All I know is that I don’t want to see him or speak to him right now."
"But he’s technically our boss. You’re going to be forced to see him eventually."
"I can’t," I whispered, the tears finally breaking through. "It just hurts too much."
Victoria moved to my side of the booth and pulled into a hug.
"I’m so sorry he’s hurting you again, Octavia."
"I’m just tired, Vic," I sobbed into her shoulder. "I thought he loved . He said it, and I actually believed him. I’m just... I’m so tired of being the fool."
"I know," she murmured, comforting until I cald down.
When she pulled away, she hesitated. "You know... after you left the resort, Franklin ca to my suite looking for you. He seed completely lost. Hopeless, even."
I scoffed, wiping my eyes. "He’s a good actor. The worst part is how convincing he is when he pretends he’s done nothing wrong."
"Does he know that you know?" she asked.
"No. And I’m not going to confront him this ti. I want him to admit it on his own. I’m sick of the gas."
Victoria gave a sad, supportive look as I sat there playing with my food.
The peace I had found with my parents felt like a small island in a sea of lies, and I was terrified of when the tide would finally co back in.
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