January 30th, three years ago: Heard Richard’s having an affair. Everyone knows except Sophia. Part of me wants to tell her, but Margaret says she needs to discover it herself. Needs to be angry enough to leave.
November 11th, two years ago: Reviewed my will today. Everything still goes to Sophia, contingent on running the firm for at least a year. Jacob thinks I’m manipulative. Maybe. But this company was always meant for her since she was fifteen and I found her sketching my buildings. She has the gift. She just needs to remember.
September 4th, one year ago: Doctor says I have maybe six months. I’ve made peace with dying. What I can’t make peace with is Sophia spending her life in that prison of a marriage. All I can do is leave her the tools to rebuild when she’s ready.
December 20th, six months ago: Sophia filed for divorce. Thank God. This is her chance. The divorce will be brutal, but she’s stronger than she knows.
March 8th, eight weeks ago: I’m dying faster than expected. Pain is considerable, but I’m content. Victoria has instructions to find Sophia after I’m gone. The rest is up to her. She’ll either take the challenge or find her own path. Either way, she’ll be free. That’s all I ever wanted.
Love always, Theodore.
I sat in his study with tears streaming, grief and gratitude twisting together until I couldn’t separate them.
“He loved you very much,” Margaret said softly. “Everything he did came from that love.”
“I wasted so much time,” I whispered.
“No,” Margaret said. “You learned what you needed to learn. Theodore understood that. He thought if he pushed too hard, you’d pull away, so he waited… and prepared this place for you.”
That night, I called Jacob.
“Can you come to the estate?” I asked. “I need to talk.”
He arrived within an hour. I handed him the journal. He read in silence, then looked at me carefully when he finished.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Like Theodore understood me better than I understood myself,” I said.
Jacob stepped closer. “For what it’s worth… he was right. The Sophia who walked into that board meeting couldn’t have existed without everything you went through.”
“He told you about me?” I asked.
“A year before he died,” Jacob admitted. “He told me his brilliant niece was wasting her life, and when she finally escaped, she’d need someone who wouldn’t try to control her. He made me promise I’d support you.”
“Is that why you’ve been so kind?” I asked. “Obligation?”
“It started that way,” Jacob said. “But Sophia, I stopped doing this for Theodore weeks ago. Now I’m doing it because every day I see you becoming more yourself. That’s admiration.”
He took my hand carefully. “And if I’m completely honest… it’s more than admiration.”
I stared at our hands. My heart hammered like it was trying to build something out of fear.
“What if I want to be ready?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Jacob smiled, gentle and steady. “Then we’ll figure it out together at whatever pace you need. No pressure, no expectations—just two architects building something new.”
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