grasp of Edward Copeland in the first place—that I couldn’t fathom. Neither could Sheridan. That, more than anything, was why she was leaving him. Whether that was forever or not, no one knew. Not even Sheridan. I believed she still held out hope that her husband would do the right thing. The problem was, John believed he had and was. He felt like he’d done his part and threatened Edward. But, what had it cost him? It was Brant who had to pay the price.
Brant gripped the sides of the podium. “Thank you all for coming today,” he began, a slight tremble in his voice.
Sheridan stepped toward me and took my other hand, trying to hold it together.
“If you don’t mind, I would like to start off with a quote from Thucydides. ‘The secret to happiness is freedom. And the secret to freedom is courage.’”
Was is it me, or was that aimed at his dad?
“For most of my life I have dreamed and planned to follow in the footsteps of my father and become a senator for the great state of Colorado. A place I love and am proud to call home. To serve the wonderful people of Colorado would have been the greatest honor I’ve had thus far in my life. However . . . ,” he paused, trying to maintain his composure.
The press in the audience seemed to wait on bated breath. Even the camera flashes came to a halt.
Brant stood a little taller. “However, I have realized I was not meant to follow in my father’s steps. I must forge my own path.”
The press went nuts, lobbing questions at him, while John hung his head. His son no longer wanted to be like him. His son was courageous enough to seek freedom from the Copelands. Something John had been too afraid to do.
“Please, I will answer your questions in just a moment. First, though, I want to thank those who have campaigned tirelessly for me already—especially my campaign manager, Tyler Rothstein. To my donors, I am taking steps to return every dollar donated to my campaign. I also want to thank my family for standing by me, especially my brother, who has shown me what true courage is.”
Brock wiped an errant tear that trickled down his cheek.
The press relentlessly peppered him with questions.
“What will you do now?”
“How does your fiancée feel about this?”
“Where is Jill?”
“There are rumors that you are no longer together. Is that true? Did that affect your decision not to run?”
“What made you change your mind?”
“Are you afraid this will ruin your chances for a future run?”
Brant, with grace, skipped over the questions about Jill and answered everything else the best he could. His party had already told him he’d betrayed their trust and confidence, and he was basically dead in the water for any future run. Brant didn’t share that with the press. He only said he would be taking time to reevaluate.
As I watched Brant personify courage, I thought about Charlotte. If she’d had the chance to grow up, she would have done well to follow in the steps of her father. He was a great man. I prayed he would find his happiness. I prayed we all did. Even John, who was notably standing on the outside. He had chosen his fragile reputation over the strong family he had built. I wondered if he still believed that consequences were more important than his conscience. Could he live with the choices now?
For the next half hour, we watched Brant take a beating from the press. He walked off that stage and into his mother’s arms figuratively bloodied and bruised, yet he was free.
Brock and I watched mother and son embrace while John stood back. His silence said everything his family didn’t want to hear—his legacy would be his empire, not his family. I wanted to scream at him that it wasn’t too late. That we would stand and fight with him. But he had to be willing to take off the gloves he’d been hiding behind, dodging Edward’s punches. He had to be willing to be knocked out. To trust that we would help pick him back up and figure out how to win the matches that really mattered. Instead, he watched while his family stepped out of the ring.
None of us said a word to John as we walked past him, though he did reach out for Sheridan. For a moment she stopped and looked between their joined hands and John.