Chapter 7
The next few months were the happiest of my life.
I finalized the divorce from David, getting full custody of Leo with no visitation rights.
The judge made it clear David would never be allowed within 1,000 feet of either of us, even after he got out of prison.
I sold the Houston house, every penny of the proceeds going to a local domestic violence shelter.
I didn’t want anything from that life.
Not a single thing.
I threw myself into running Hale Enterprises.
I’d been scared at first, thinking I wasn’t smart enough, not strong enough to run a billion-dollar company.
But I was wrong.
Five years of dealing with David and Helen had taught me how to read people.
How to spot a liar.
How to stand my ground when someone tried to push me around.
I made changes.
I raised the minimum wage for all our entry-level employees.
I added free childcare for every worker.
I started a program to help survivors of domestic violence get jobs and housing.
The board of directors was skeptical at first.
But when our profits went up 20% in six months, they stopped complaining.
I also started my own foundation.
The Clara Hale Foundation.
We provided free legal help, housing, and therapy to women and children trying to escape abusive relationships.
I traveled around the country, speaking at shelters, sharing my story.
I told them they weren’t alone.
Told them they weren’t weak.
Told them there was a way out.
Every time a woman came up to me after a speech, crying, saying my story had given her the courage to leave, I knew I was doing the right thing.
My dad had always told me that with great wealth came great responsibility.
Now I understood what he meant.
Leo was thriving.
He finished his first year of preschool with straight “excellent” marks.
His teacher said he was the kindest, most outgoing kid in the class.
He’d started soccer, and even though he was the smallest kid on the team, he ran faster than anyone.
Every Saturday, I sat on the sidelines, cheering him on, as he scored goal after goal.
He’d run over to me after every one, his face red and sweaty, yelling, “Did you see that, Mommy? Did you see me score?”
“I saw it, baby!” I’d yell back.
“That was amazing! You’re gonna be a pro!”
He’d grin, then run back onto the field, his little legs pumping.
One night, we were sitting on the beach, building a sandcastle, when Leo looked up at me.
“Mommy,” he said, “can we go to Disney World? Javi went last month and he said there’s a dinosaur ride.”
I laughed, nodding.
“Of course we can. We can go next week. We can stay in the castle hotel. Meet Mickey Mouse. Go on all the rides you want.”
Leo’s face lit up like the Fourth of July.
“Really? All of them?”
“All of them,” I said.
He threw his arms around my neck, squeezing tight.
“You’re the best mommy in the whole world,” he said.
I hugged him back, my heart so full it felt like it might burst.
I’d spent so long thinking I’d ruined his life.
Thinking I’d failed him by staying with David for so long.
But here he was.
Happy.
Healthy.
Loved.
May you like
I hadn’t failed him.
I’d saved us both.
