"You might be forgetting something," I said, regarding him with flat indifference. "Marlene wasn't the only one who came begging me to come down from that mountain."
With that, I turned and walked away.
Three years ago, Henson Group had imploded—teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. Marlene's grandfather, Felix Henson, was on his deathbed.
He'd ordered every member of the Henson clan to take the family's ceremonial token and kneel for three days and three nights before the gates of Shadow Peak Academy, just to recruit me.
They called me a once-in-a-generation business prodigy.
On his deathbed, Felix entrusted me with his final wish: marry Marlene and pull Henson Group back from the brink.
I owed the old man a debt—a kindness from years past—so I agreed. Over three years together, I'd grown genuinely fond of Marlene.
She was gentle. When I worked late, she'd bring me a warm glass of milk. She'd knead the tension from my shoulders.
She'd lay out my clothes for me every morning.
A few times, when I'd pushed myself to collapse and ended up hospitalized with a high fever, she sat at my bedside through the night without leaving.