He Hated Me Until The Rainy Night

PART 2 ( Chapter 11: The Press Conference)

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The morning after Grand Central didn’t feel real.

I woke up in the small studio apartment I’d been renting for three years. Same cracked ceiling. Same smell of old mop water from my uniform in the corner. Except today, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.

Unknown numbers. Reporters. Old coworkers who hadn’t spoken to me since the accident.

And one text from Victor, 6:12 AM:

“9 AM. Jackson Tower. Wear something clean. We’re fixing this.”

I didn’t have “something clean.” I had black slacks and a white blouse from my janitor job. So I wore that.

Jackson Tower was packed by 8:45. Cameras. Microphones. News vans blocking the street. People holding phones up like weapons.

Victor was already on the steps. No PR team. No lawyers flanking him. Just him. Jeans and that same black tee from yesterday, but with a navy blazer thrown over it. Dark circles still under his eyes.

Patricia was in the crowd too. Arms crossed. Smirking like she already knew how this would go wrong.

Victor saw me. And he waited.

“Come here,” he said quietly when I reached him. Not as my boss. As something else.

He took my hand. Right in front of everyone.

Flashbulbs exploded.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Victor said, voice steady but rough. “Three years ago, a nine-year-old girl was in a car accident. The driver was blamed. Fired. Blacklisted. That driver was Sally Carter.”

A murmur ran through the crowd.

“That was a lie.”

My knees almost buckled.

Victor squeezed my hand. “The person driving that morning was my fiancée, Vanessa Moore. She was intoxicated. She was texting. Lily was in the backseat.”

Another flash. Someone shouted, “Do you have proof?”

Victor held up my old phone. Played the dashcam video. 8:14 AM. Vanessa. Texting. Swerving.

The crowd went silent.

“She begged Sally to take the blame,” Victor continued. “Threatened her mother’s medical bills. Threatened her job. Sally said yes because she thought she was protecting Lily. And I let the world believe it because it was easier than admitting my family was broken.”

He turned to me then. Let go of my hand only to put it on my shoulder.

“For three years, I punished an innocent woman. I ruined her career. I called her a monster. And I was the monster.”

Patricia scoffed from the back. “This is defamation”

“Patricia,” Victor cut her off, eyes cold. “You helped her. The texts are on the USB too. You’re fired. Effective immediately. Security will escort you out.”

Two guards moved in. Patricia’s face went red. “You can’t”

“I own the company,” Victor said flatly.

He looked back at the cameras. “Sally Carter is reinstated, effective today. With back pay. With a public apology from Jackson Enterprises. And with my personal assurance that no one in this city will ever blacklist her again.”

Then he did the last thing I expected.

He knelt. Right there on the steps. So he was eye level with me.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Just for me. “For the hospital. For the hate. For every day you carried this alone.”

I couldn’t breathe. Three years of anger, grief, and silence hit me all at once.

“I don’t need” I started.

“You deserve it,” he said. “And more.”

He stood, turned back to the press. “Questions?”

They were yelling. “Is it true you’re dating her now?” “What about Vanessa?” “What about Lily?”

Victor glanced at me. “Lily is home. She’s safe. And she knows who was really driving that day. As for the rest... that’s our business.”

He guided me inside before anyone could push closer.

In the quiet of the elevator, he finally let out a breath. “Was that okay?”

I nodded, tears running down my face and I didn’t care who saw. “You didn’t have to kneel.”

“I did,” he said. “Because for three years you were on your knees for me. Metaphorically.”

The doors opened to his floor. Empty. Patricia’s desk already cleared.

Victor stopped me before I could walk past. “Lunch? With Lily? She’s making blueberry muffins. Says they’re for you.”

I laughed, wet and shaky. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated. And for the first time in three years, when he looked at me, he didn’t look angry.

He looked hopeful.