I stopped but did not turn immediately. “What is it?” I asked.
His voice sounded softer now. “I never thanked you.”
I turned slowly. “For what?”
He gave a small bitter laugh before answering. “For those first years. Without you none of this would have happened.”
For the first time in many years I saw real sincerity in his expression. The feeling no longer hurt me because it simply felt distant.
“Take care, Brandon,” I said calmly before walking out of the courthouse into the bright Arizona sunlight. The warm air touched my face, and for the first time in many years I breathed freely.
Three months later life had changed quickly. The southern stores thrived under my leadership, yet this time I hired professional managers and reduced my own working hours so that I could finally enjoy life again.
I joined yoga classes, began reading books, and occasionally traveled.
One quiet afternoon I was sitting in a café in downtown Phoenix reading a novel when a man sat down across from me. He appeared to be in his early forties and wore a simple white shirt with a relaxed smile.
“Hello,” he said. “My name is Patrick Sullivan.”
I raised my eyebrows slightly and asked, “Do we know each other?”