Chapter 10 - The HorizonSix months later, the headlines in The Wall Street Journal and Forbes didn't feature photos of a broken billionaire in a wheelchair.
Instead, the front-page spread showed Caleb Whitmore standing proudly beside me at the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new Whitmore-Hart Neurological Research Center in downtown Los Angeles—a state-of-the-art facility dedicated to spinal trauma rehabilitation.
Inside the private penthouse in Pacific Palisades, the rain tapped gently against the glass windows once more. But there was no shattered glass, no anger, and no ghosts of the past.
Caleb walked across the hardwood floor with a steady, natural stride, carrying two glasses of champagne. He handed one to me as I stood by the balcony overlooking the endless Pacific ocean.
"You know," Caleb said, wrapping his arms around me from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder, "the board still thinks I hired you as a medical consultant."
I smiled, turning around in his embrace and leaning against his chest, feeling the steady, powerful beat of his heart.
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"Let's keep it our little secret, Mr. Whitmore."
He kissed the top of my head, smiling as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in
