Chapter Fifteen
839 Words
Amelia ignored Daniel Foster’s first email.
Then she ignored his second.
And his third.
By the fourth email—
She stopped pretending she wasn’t interested.
Subject: Final Follow-Up
Hi Amelia,
I understand you’re cautious.
Founders usually are.
But I don’t invest in ideas.
I invest in people.
TaskFlow solves a real problem.
I’d love thirty minutes of your time.
No pressure.
No commitments.
Coffee.
Conversation.
Nothing more.
Daniel Foster
She closed her laptop.
Thirty minutes.
Just thirty minutes.
How dangerous could thirty minutes be?
Her phone rang.
Lucas.
She answered.
“Hey.”
“You sound stressed.”
“I got another email.”
“The investor?”
“Yes.”
“What does he want?”
“A meeting.”
Lucas became quiet.
“So meet him.”
Amelia sighed.
“It isn’t that simple.”
“It actually is.”
“No.”
“It isn’t.”
“What if he steals it?”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“What if he’s genuine?”
“What if he’s not?”
“What if he buys it?”
She stopped.
Lucas lowered his voice.
“What if he does?”
Silence.
“Amelia.”
“Look at me.”
She adjusted her phone.
Lucas sat in his dorm room.
Older now.
Wiser.
Less boy.
More man.
“You’ve been building TaskFlow for years.”
“You’ve sacrificed everything.”
“Mom.”
“Dad.”
“Columbia.”
“Friends.”
“Dating.”
“Sleep.”
“You clean houses all day.”
“You code all night.”
“For what?”
She swallowed.
“For freedom.”
“And what if freedom is knocking?”
She looked away.
“I promised Dad I’d build something meaningful.”
Lucas smiled softly.
“And you did.”
“I promised Mom Sunday dinners.”
“You’ll still have them.”
“I promised you MIT.”
Lucas hesitated.
Then finally said it.
“And selling TaskFlow would pay for MIT.”
Silence.
Heavy silence.
Amelia’s eyes watered.
“Lucas.”
“I’m serious.”
“What if this is our way out?”
“What if you’re holding onto the dream instead of enjoying what it can give us?”
She closed her eyes.
TaskFlow wasn’t software.
TaskFlow was grief.
TaskFlow was survival.
TaskFlow was her father’s voice.
TaskFlow was Pancake Sundays.
TaskFlow was her mother’s laugh.
TaskFlow was every promise she’d made.
Selling it felt…
Like selling them.
Lucas called out.
“Amelia”
I will talk to you later.
That evening.
She knocked on Ethan’s office door.
“Come in.”
He looked up.
One glance.
And he knew.
She was carrying something.
Emotionally.
“What happened?”
She handed him her phone.
Daniel Foster.
Five emails.
Three messages.
Two missed calls.
One calendar invitation.
Coffee with Daniel Foster.
Tomorrow.
2 PM.
Ethan read quietly.
Then placed the phone down.
“He really wants TaskFlow.”
“I know.”
“You want to go.”
“I don’t know.”
“You want me to tell you not to.”
She looked at him.
“Do you think I should?”
Ethan stood.
Walked toward the window.
Hands in pockets.
Looking out over Manhattan.
For a long time—
He said nothing.
Finally—
He turned around.
“Do you know why Blackwood Technologies exists?”
She shook her head.
“Because everyone told me to sell.”
“My professors.”
“My investors.”
“My friends.”
“My fiancée.”
“Everyone.”
“And?”
“I didn’t.”
She smiled.
“So you’re telling me not to sell.”
“No.”
“I’m telling you my story.”
“And yours isn’t mine.”
Silence.
“Amelia.”
He stepped closer.
“I think Daniel Foster wants your company.”
“I think he’ll undervalue it.”
“I think you’ll regret selling.”
“I think TaskFlow deserves more.”
She waited.
“But.”
“But?”
“But I don’t get to decide.”
“Why?”
“Because TaskFlow isn’t mine.”
“It’s yours.”
“So if you sell…”
“I’ll respect it.”
“If you keep it…”
“I’ll respect it.”
“If you walk away…”
“I’ll respect it.”
She swallowed.
“You really mean that?”
“Yes.”
“Even if you disagree?”
“Especially then.”
He smiled softly.
“I spent years building a company.”
“I won’t become the man who takes another founder’s choice away.”
Silence settled between them.
Comfortable.
Dangerous.
Safe.
And for the first time—
Amelia realized Ethan wasn’t trying to save her.
He was trying to empower her.
And somehow—
That made the decision even harder.
Because now—
She couldn’t blame anyone else.
Tomorrow—
She would sit across from Daniel Foster.
And decide.
Would she sell her dream?
Or finally believe it was worth more?
- Writer
