Chapter 17 - The Confession of a Ghost
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Three weeks after Christmas, while Grant sat in a high-security holding facility awaiting trial, a heavy manila envelope arrived at the lake house via his criminal defense attorney.
Inside was a four-page handwritten letter from Grant.
Samuel advised me not to read it, but I needed to face the ghost of my marriage on my own terms. I sat by the window overlooking the frozen lake and unfolded the pages.
Natalie,
I am sitting in a six-by-eight cell, listening to the iron doors slam shut, and for the first time in my life, I cannot lie my way out.
I keep searching for the moment I became the monster you needed protection from. The truth is, there wasn't one dramatic turn. There were hundreds of small choices.
Every time I corrected your memory when I knew you were right.
Every time I made you feel small so I could feel powerful.
Every time I convinced myself that controlling you was the same thing as protecting our future.
When I found my father’s old papers about Northstar, I told myself I was doing it for us. I told myself that if I secured the trust, we could have the life we deserved. But greed is an infection, Natalie. It eats away at everything human inside you until only hunger remains.
On Christmas morning, when I saw you on the floor, I didn't see my wife or my unborn child. I saw my reputation crumbling. I saw my vanity dying. And I hated you for showing the world who I really was.
I am not asking for your forgiveness. I don't deserve it. I am writing this because for the first time in my miserable life, I am telling the truth without asking what it will cost me.
May you like
Grant.
I folded the paper slowly, setting it on the table before striking a match and letting the flame consume the pages until nothing remained but grey ash in the fireplace hearth.
