The forgotten groom

Chapter 39

MAX'S POV

Just before we could leave to go home, my grandfather suddenly comes in and stops us!

The room felt heavier than ever. All eyes were on Nik, but his grip on my hand never faltered. He was my anchor, calm in the storm, and I was beginning to understand what true love and sacrifice really meant.
Across from us sat Harold — my grandfather — flanked by his allies, faces stoic and unreadable.

Nik stood up, straightening his suit with quiet confidence. "Before we proceed," he said, his voice steady, "I'd like to request a private word with Harold."

Gasps rippled across the boardroom.

Harold's brow lifted. "Alone?" he asked, intrigued.

"Yes," Nik replied. "Just you and me."

The room was cleared, leaving only the two of them. I stood at the glass door, unable to hear but watching them closely. Harold leaned forward, his expression unreadable, while Nik began to speak. I could see the tension slowly leaving their bodies.

After what felt like forever, the doors opened. Nik returned, his face unreadable — until his eyes met mine and softened.

"What happened?" I whispered.
Mmmmmm
"He... he did it all for you, Max," Nik said gently. "The shares, the takeover, everything. He thought he was protecting you from me — from a marriage he believed was a burden, not a blessing."

My heart stopped. "What?"

Harold stepped forward then, eyes misty but voice strong. "I made mistakes, Max. But I only ever wanted you to be free. When you were fifteen, I watched you sacrifice your childhood for a business arrangement. I didn't realize until it was too late... that you had fallen in love. I only ever saw the contract, not the bond."

I stood there, stunned. All the pain, all the resentment I had harbored — it was crumbling under the weight of his honesty.

"I'm sorry, my boy," he said, his voice trembling. "And I'm sorry, Nik. I see now what you've done for him, for all of us."

Tears welled up in my eyes. For the first time in ten years, my grandfather embraced me — and I hugged him back.

Three months later

The sun streamed in through the curtains of our villa overlooking the coast. Nik was making breakfast — or at least attempting to — while I watched him fumble adorably with the blender.

"Need help?" I teased.

"I've survived hostile takeovers, Max. I can handle a smoothie."

I laughed and walked over, wrapping my arms around his waist. "We're really here, huh?"

He turned in my arms and kissed my forehead. "Yeah. Together. Finally without business or tabloids standing in our way."

Harold had retired quietly, handing over his remaining shares to Nik and me as a gift. He now spent his days gardening and occasionally dropping by to critique Nik's suits and spoil our dogs.

Nik pulled out two glasses and poured the smoothies. "To peace. And to us."

I raised my glass. "To family. Chosen and blood."

We clinked glasses and sat down by the open balcony, watching the waves roll in. There was still so much ahead — dreams to chase, a family of our own to start — but we had each other.

And that was enough.