That included clients.
One longtime client asked during lunch:
“Was your husband really trying to take the company?”
I put down my fork.
“There were legal proceedings involving my former husband and conduct
affecting me and Vanguard.”
He waited for more.
I smiled.
“That is all I discuss.”
He nodded.
“Fair enough.”
It felt wonderful.
No apology.
No nervous overexplaining.
Just a door.
With a lock.
Years after the case ended, I visited Saint Vincent for a Vanguard
project.
The hospital was renovating an outpatient wing.
I had not intended to enter the building myself.
Thomas could have handled the meeting.
But that morning, I changed my mind.
I walked through the lobby.
The smell hit first.
Disinfectant.
Coffee.
Plastic.
For a second, my body remembered before my mind did.
My hands went cold.
I stopped.
Thomas looked at me.
“Want to leave?”
That question mattered.
Not:
Are you okay?
