At 2:13 in the morning, my husband’s assistant sent him a message that ended our twelve-year marriage. Last night was my first time with a married man. You promised me you’d take care of me, Ryan. Please don’t abandon me now.

Patricia Whitmore sat in my living room, her hands wrapped around a delicate china teacup that trembled slightly against her saucer.

The news of Ryan’s formal termination from Northstar had hit the evening broadcast an hour ago. The media was calling it one of the most dramatic corporate downfalls in Boston’s financial history.

"He called me twenty minutes ago, Claire," Patricia said, her voice cracking with emotion. "He's staying at a cheap airport hotel near Logan. He begged me to lend him money from his father's estate trust."

I sat across from her on the cream velvet sofa. "What did you tell him, Patricia?"

She looked up at me, her eyes red-rimmed with tears, but her jaw set firm. "I told him that his father died broke and bitter because he spent his whole life cheating the people who loved him. I told Ryan I wouldn't give him a single dime to hire lawyers to fight you."

"I never wanted you to be caught in the middle of this, Patricia," I said softly.

"I'm not in the middle, Claire," she declared strongly, setting her teacup down on the tray. "I am standing right beside you. For thirty years, I watched my husband break my spirit piece by piece while I smiled for our neighbors and pretended everything was fine. I stayed for Ryan. I thought protecting his father's reputation was saving my son."

She reached out, gently taking my hand in hers.

"Seeing Ryan treat you the exact same way his father treated me broke my heart," she whispered. "But seeing you stand up and destroy his lies gave me my dignity back. You did what I was too afraid to do thirty years ago."

A heavy knock sounded at the front door.

We both turned toward the entryway. Through the frosted glass panels, I could see the silhouette of a man standing under the streetlights, wet with rain.

Ryan.

I stood up slowly, but Patricia rose right beside me. "Don't open it alone," she said.

I walked to the foyer and pulled the heavy oak door open.

Ryan stood on the porch, drenched, his expensive suit soaked through, his face pale and hollow. He looked years older than he had three days ago.

"Claire," he rasped, stepping toward the threshold. "Please. Just five minutes."

"Stay on the porch, Ryan," I said cleanly, keeping my hand on the edge of the door.

"Claire, I lost everything!" Ryan yelled, his voice breaking as tears mixed with the rain on his face. "The board stripped my stock options! The press is parked outside my apartment! Madison’s lawyer is threatening to sue me for sexual harassment! I have nothing left!"

"You have your choices, Ryan," I said coldly.

"I made a mistake!" he sobbed, taking a desperate step forward. "I was stupid! I was insecure because everyone knew Harrington money was keeping the company afloat! I felt like a puppet in my own company, and Madison made me feel like a king! Can't you understand that?!"

Patricia stepped up behind me, her voice cutting through the rainy night like a blade.

"She gave you her heart, Ryan," Patricia said coldly from the doorway. "And you traded it for an ego boost from a girl who wanted your corporate card. Stop blaming Claire for your own weakness."

Ryan stared at his mother, shock washing over his wet face. "Mom? You're helping her ruin me?"