Chapter 6 - The Confession in the SuiteAn hour later, the ballroom was empty. Only Jackson, Judith, Marcus, and I remained.
Jackson sat slumped in a chair near the head table, his head buried in his hands. His shoulders shook with silent sobs—not tears of anger, but the crushing weight of humiliation and regret.
I walked over, my heels soft on the carpet, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched at first, then leaned into my touch, whispering, "I'm sorry, Mom. God, I am so, so sorry."
"I know, Jackson," I said softly, pulling up a chair and sitting across from him. "Love makes us blind. I loved your father for forty years, and I know what it's like to trust blindly. But trust has to be earned, and character reveals itself when things don't go according to plan."
"She said... she told me you were jealous," Jackson choked out, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "She said you couldn't stand the thought of sharing me."
"I would have shared you with anyone who truly loved you," I replied gently. "Anyone who respected the man you are, not the bank account you carry."
Judith walked over, handing Jackson a glass of water. "Well, kiddo," my sister said with her characteristic bluntness. "Look at the bright side. You just saved yourself a very expensive, very painful divorce—and a lifetime of misery. Consider the shaved head a blessing in disguise. It woke us all up."
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Jackson let out a wet, humorless laugh, looking up at me. "How did you know? How did you keep your cool through all of this?"
"Because," I smiled, running a hand over the silver wig, "I built a multi-million-dollar empire from the ground up, Jackson. Do you really think a little hairless scalp and a petty gold-digger were going to break me?"
