All I can watch is Ben.
“So,” Charles says, once enough time has passed that he’s sure he’s allowed to speak. “You’re saying this isn’t about redemption?”
“I don’t need redemption. I need impact.”
“And Antonia Cole? The woman who has made millions off others’ tragedy?”
Ben pauses. My phone buzzes again. The laptop screen dims, and I tap a key to ensure it doesn’t go blank. Clara and I hold our breath.
“Some people build companies from ambition. Some from loss. That’s not corruption. That’s being human,” Ben says. “Until you’ve walked the same path, you don’t get to comment on the correct way to grieve.”
The walls suck the air from the room. Everything dims. He didn’t say Mikey’s name, but he acknowledged him. Ben protected my grief; he didn’t turn it into a spectacle. The one thing I’ve always been afraid would happen.
“And is the retreat your way of grieving?”
The interview is nearing the end, the timer showing fifty minutes have passed. Charles is looking for a hook, something to go out on a high. To change the narrative and get the corruption story he wanted. One that would rip me and my company to shreds.
Julian took a risk. I know he did. But it also shows me he trusts Ben. And he isn’t frightened to see his ideas through when I give him the chance, even if I don’t agree. But any good CEO knows we don’t need yes-men, we need people of action to succeed. Both Julian and Ben have shown that they are that today.
“My family will always have a void where Bex was.”
My gaze drifts to the desk drawer. The one I keep locked. The one no one opens. The one with only Mikey’s toy bunny inside. His hidden place in my office.
“But four years have passed since she left us. The retreat is a way of honoring her while helping those still fighting. Is that not what every family deserves? Space to be them.”
Charles wraps up the interview, and Ben shakes his hand just as Julian strides through my office door without knocking. That’s it, it’s done. Ben stayed strong, and I didn’t hate watching the whole thing. There’s a calmness knowing his answers line up with my own, and we’re on the same page.
“We’re trending for the right reasons,” Julian says, sounding smug.
I have to admit he has the right to be. I can’t deny it. The interview went well.
For the first time since the protests began, I don’t feel alone on the front line. I don’t need saving, but to know someone chose to stand beside me unsettles me more than any headline ever did.