Chapter 3 - The Trial of MemoryThe funeral was held on a Tuesday, under a sky that felt as heavy and gray as lead.
Garrett stood at the back of the chapel, his expensive suit now hanging loosely off his frame. He looked older, gaunt, the polish of his success stripped away by weeks of unrelenting scrutiny.
Meredith sat in the front row, shielded by her father. She didn't look back. She didn't cry. She stared at the small, white casket with an intensity that terrified everyone around her.
As the service ended, the crowd shuffled out, whispering, eyeing Garrett like he was a contagion. He waited, hoping for a moment with her. He needed to speak, to say the things he hadn't said in the hospital, to beg, to promise, to do anything to get back into the life he had so casually discarded.
Meredith stood up and walked toward the aisle. She stopped directly in front of him.
Garrett felt his breath hitch. He opened his mouth, but she silenced him with a single, brutal look.
“Lucas hated the color gray,” she said, her voice hollow. “He loved the orange of autumn leaves and the blue of the pool. He would have hated this day.”
“Meredith, please,” Garrett choked out. “I didn’t know. I swear to you, I didn’t know it was that bad.”
“You didn’t want to know,” she corrected. “You wanted to be the man in the lobby. You chose to silence those calls because they were an inconvenience. And now, you’re trying to silence your conscience because it’s an inconvenience.”
She reached into her bag, pulled out her wedding ring, and dropped it into his hand. It was cold, metallic, and felt like a lead weight in his palm.
“This marriage ended at 11:47,” she said.
William Sterling stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Garrett. “I’d suggest you take the settlement the lawyers sent you, Garrett. It’s significantly more than you deserve, but it’s the only way to avoid the criminal charges we’ve prepared regarding your corporate malfeasance. If I see you near my daughter or my grandson’s memory again, I will personally ensure that your name is removed from every record in this city.”
Garrett looked from Meredith to William, his pride finally breaking. He slumped, his shoulders drooping, a broken man in a designer coat.
He watched them walk out of the chapel, the heavy oak doors closing behind them with a finality that made the world go dark.
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Garrett was left standing in the aisle, the gold ring resting in his hand, a hollow shell of the man he used to be. The media was waiting outside, their flashes already beginning to fire through the stained glass. The lawsuit was waiting. The bankruptcy was waiting.
He had won the race to the top of the world, only to find that he had built his house on a foundation of sand.
