What She Really Wanted
She pulled out another document.
A contract.
She slid it toward me with a pen.
She was claiming a share of my company.
LaunchPad.
The thing built entirely in her absence.
That’s when clarity hit.
She wasn’t here for love.
She was here for leverage.
I handed the papers back.
Unsigned.
“Blood doesn’t make a parent,” I said. “The man who raised me does.”
Her smile vanished.
She left angry.
I closed the door — this time on my terms.
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