Chapter 7 - The Summer House
Six months later.
The heat of August had settled over the East Coast, but at the Clayton Estate in East Hampton, a cool ocean breeze rustled through the tall oak trees surrounding the magnificent shingle-style mansion.
The sprawling green lawn sloped down toward a private white-sand beach where gentle blue waves lapped against the shore.
On the rear wooden patio, surrounded by blooming blue hydrangeas, a massive eight-foot wooden dining table was set for a summer feast.
Hank stood by a large outdoor grill, wearing an apron that read WORLD'S BEST DRIVER, flipping burgers and hot dogs with a wide grin. Dr. Richard Miller sat in a wicker chair, enjoying a glass of lemonade, chatting with old Arthur Abernathy, who had officially taken over as Chairman of Clayton Global's Board.
Out on the green lawn, eight-year-old Leo and five-year-old Mia were running through the cool spray of a garden sprinkler, their joyous laughter echoing across the grass like sweet music.
Leo wore bright yellow swim trunks, his hair wet and messy, chasing Mia, who was wearing a pink swimsuit decorated with tiny white butterflies.
Sitting on the edge of the patio steps, wearing a simple white linen shirt and shorts, was Edward.
He looked completely unrecognizable from the dark, stern billionaire who had stepped out of a sedan on a freezing August morning. His skin was tanned, his dark hair slightly longer, and his eyes were filled with a deep, unshakeable serenity.
"Dad! Watch this!" Leo yelled from the lawn.
Leo ran toward a small soccer net set up near the trees, kicking a bright blue ball with all his strength. It sailed straight into the top corner of the net.
"Goal!" Leo screamed, raising his arms in triumph.
"Incredible kick, Leo!" Edward shouted back, clapping his hands loudly. "Future World Cup champion!"
Mia came running up the wooden steps, her tiny wet feet leaving dark footprints on the teak deck. She threw her small, cool arms around Edward’s neck, dropping a sticky, sweet-smelling kiss onto his cheek.
"Daddy, Hank said I can have two ice creams after dinner!" Mia announced proudly.
Edward laughed—a deep, booming, joyous sound that echoed through the garden. He lifted her onto his lap, wrapping a soft dry towel around her shoulders.
"Hank is giving out unauthorized dessert approvals again?" Edward teased, glancing over at the grill where Hank gave a guilty wink. "Well, since it's summer, I suppose we can allow it."
Arthur Abernathy walked over, holding a glass of iced tea, looking down at Edward and his children with a warm, nostalgic smile.
"You know, Edward," Arthur said softly, "your father would have been proud of the company's Q2 earnings... but if he could see you sitting here right now, with these two wonderful kids... he would have realized what he missed out on."
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Edward looked out over the sunlit lawn, watching Leo kick the soccer ball again, feeling Mia’s soft, warm head resting contentedly against his chest.
"He missed everything, Arthur," Edward said quietly. "He thought money built a legacy. But legacy isn't built in boardrooms."
