Chapter 11 - The Inventory of a Life"I made mistakes," Julian said, his voice pleading now, shedding the veneer of authority like cheap paint. "Genevieve... that was business, Amy! It was an alliance our fathers set up before we were born. It meant nothing. I never loved her."
"I know," Amy replied, her hazel eyes meeting his with devastating clarity. "That’s what made it unforgivable. You traded our dignity for a merger that meant nothing to your heart, simply because you don't know how to exist without winning."
Julian stared at her, his breath catching. "I came to bring you home. Both of you. I'll sign whatever you want. I'll step down from the Laurent project. We can leave New York—we can buy an estate in Connecticut, anywhere you want. Just don't shut me out of my child’s life."
Amy looked down at Grace, who stirred slightly in the yellow blanket, yawning with tiny pink lips.
"Do you know what I do every morning at four, Julian?" Amy asked softly. "I walk down to the bakery. I light the ovens. I measure flour and yeast with a man who served his country and doesn't ask me what my stock options are. I come home, I nurse my daughter, and I sit on this porch with an old woman who taught me how to read the clouds."
She looked back up at him. "In three years with you, I never once knew who I was when the party ended. Here, the party never starts, and I have never been more certain of my life."
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"You expect me to just walk away?" Julian’s voice hardened slightly, the old habit of control flaring up. "I have rights, Amy. I have the best attorneys in the country. A child needs her father. She needs resources, education, security."
"She will have a father if you learn how to be one," Amy said, her words landing like stones in deep water. "Not an owner. A father."
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