Page 32 of Not His Bride

I let the compliment breathe. The words don’t do what they think they do, but the attempt is new. Too bad it’s too little and way too late.

Debbie’s voice is quieter. “I’m sorry about the wedding. Not just for the video, but for the whole thing. I didn’t want to ruin your life; I wanted people to see that Gallagher had picked me first. Dad drilled it into us for years. If Gallagher married you, then everyone would think you’d somehow beaten me. And if I’m being honest, I couldn’t stand that.”

I say nothing. If she’s apologizing, she can finish it without my help.

Debbie swallows. “I could have told you in private. I absolutely should have. But I didn’t because I wanted everyone to see it. I wanted three hundred people to know I was the first choice.”

She takes a breath, waiting.

I keep my voice even. “Humiliating me in front of the entire industry? That was never about me.”

“I know it was ugly.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t buy your apologies. You’re my family, and I’ll always love you guys, but I feel like you’re only apologizing because suddenly, the business isn’t doing well. Yes, I believe you finally understand how much I did, but if the Portugal launch had gone well, would we still be having this conversation?”

My father goes to say something, but I cut him off. “You spent years ranking us. You told everyone who would listen that, ‘My Debbie deserves the best.’ But me? I was the back-up. When Gallagher wanted Debbie, you fought for her to get the bigger spotlight. When that didn’t work out, you offered me instead.”

He tries to backpedal. “Lilith, I always recognized your talent—”

“No, you didn’t. Not always.”

Gallagher doesn’t move, but his presence is reassuring.

Dad rubs a spot behind his ear, a nervous tick. “I was wrong to phrase it like that. I see that now. I always rewarded what got the most attention—public successes, the glamorous parts.”

Mom cuts in, softer than I expect, “Lilith, you were always so capable. I let Phillip’s logic drive everything. Keeping Debbie happy was easier than challenging him.” Her hands twist at the handles of her purse. “If I could do it differently, I would.”

Finally, Dad clears his throat. “So, I’m asking you to come back. An executive officer position with whatever title you want. You’d have full operational authority, equity, profits, and your name attached to the projects you choose, in writing.”

He frames it like an offer.

This would have been everything to me a year ago—name on the letterhead, my work credited in every release. There was a time I would have done anything for this moment.

Gallagher is still off to the side, exactly where I left him, content to let me run the show. We both know what my answer will be. I don’t want to go back. Not even with all the perks stacked up.

I answer, my voice steady, “Thank you, but hell no.”

Dad blinks. For once, he looks genuinely caught off guard. “What?”

“I said no.”

His forehead creases. “Lilith, I’m offering you equity. Full operational authority. Your name attached to your work. Everything you’ve spent years wanting.”

“I know.”

He stares at me like there’s another part of the conversation he’s waiting for. “Then I don’t understand.”

“That’s kind of the problem.”

His jaw flexes. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

I almost pity them. Most people don’t have to learn how replaceable they are in their own family, but I’m not most people. If anyone’s paying attention, they would have felt how the power in the room shifted. I don’t look away.

“I’m not shutting you out,” I say. “If you want to call because you actually want to chit-chat, I’ll answer. Eventually, I’d like us to have a relationship that isn’t about work. But I’m not working for you, and I’m not pretending we’re close.”

Mom is quiet, watching me as if she’s trying to memorize what I look like.