Chapter 8 - The Falling Out
The pressure of public disgrace and impending financial ruin finally snapped the fragile bond between my son and his wife. Three days after the gala, Thomas informed me that Bethany had officially filed for divorce and packed her bags for her parents' house in California.
She had tried to demand half of Harvey's assets in the filing, only to discover that Harvey had zero net worth and over six hundred thousand dollars in personal debt to Apex Capital and the bank.
Harvey called me late that night from a small, dingy one-bedroom apartment he had rented near the industrial park on the edge of town. His voice sounded hollow, stripped of all the bravado and arrogance that had defined him for the past two years.
"She left, Mom," he said quietly, the noise of traffic bleeding through the phone line. "She took the rest of her stuff and told me I was a useless loser who ruined her life."
"Bethany only loved the illusion of wealth you offered her, Harvey," I said calmly, sitting by the fireplace in the quiet living room. "She never loved you. She loved the life she thought you could give her."
"I lost everything," he sobbed, breaking down completely. "My home, my reputation, my money... my wife. I don't have anything left."
"You haven't lost everything, Harvey," I said, my tone softening just a fraction. "You still have your life, your health, and your mind. But you have lost the right to hide behind your father's name and my generosity. If you want to rebuild your life, you start at the bottom, like Arthur and I did."
May you like
"How?" he asked, sounding like the young boy who used to come to me with scraped knees. "Where do I even start?"
"By taking accountability," I said. "Tomorrow morning, you report to Thomas's office. You sign the debt restructuring agreement, you take the management job at the local timber mill, and you start paying off your debts twenty-five percent at a time."
