She stopped. I know who you are. He said, I knew last night. I looked you up after Ava went to bed. She stared at him.
Forbes Bloomberg, your company's website. The profile in the Atlanta Journal from two years ago. He held her gaze. Victoria Hail, 42, founded Hail Technology Solutions at 28, took it public at 38. Revenue last year, $812 million.
Her heart was doing something complicated. You knew this morning, she said. I knew this morning, he said. And you didn't. I wanted to see what you'd do.
He said. When you had the chance to tell me yourself, he put down his cup. You did it tonight without me asking. She felt something crack open behind her ribs. Not painfully.
The way ice cracks in spring, the sound of something that was frozen beginning. Finally to move. I should have told you earlier, she said. Yes, he said. I'm sorry.
I know. He picked up his cup again. That part I believe completely. She sat with that for a long moment. Then she said, "You're not you're not bothered by it.
The company, the money, the of course I'm bothered by it," he said. And the honesty of it was bracing clean. Not because of what you have, but because of what I know about what happens when the world finds out a story. And it always finds out. He looked at the window.
I have a daughter. She's eight. She lost her mother. She started drawing three people in front of her house. His voice was steady and low.
I can't afford to let something into this house that's going to leave a hole bigger than the one it filled. The weight of what he just said settled over her fully. She understood it. She understood it not as a rejection. She understood it as the most honest and most protective thing a father could say about most the important thing in his life.