Chapter 16 - PRESTON’S FINAL REQUEST
The jury found Cynthia guilty on every major fraud count.
Martin and David received prison sentences under their agreements.
Preston pleaded guilty to attempted wire fraud, identity theft, and conspiracy.
His cooperation reduced his sentence.
It did not erase it.
Before sentencing, he requested one final meeting.
We sat across from each other in a courthouse conference room.
A glass wall separated the room from security.
He looked thinner.
Older.
The charming confidence had disappeared.
“I heard Northline kept the Vale project employees.”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
“I did not do it for you.”
“I know.”
He folded his hands.
“I’m trying to understand when I became the person who could do this.”
“Was there one moment?”
“No.”
I answered honestly.
“There were many small moments when you chose the easier wrong thing.”
He looked toward the table.
“The first invoice was thirty thousand.”
“I told myself it was temporary.”
“Then another.”
“Then the loan.”
“Then the trust agreement.”
“Every step made the next one easier.”
“That is how most betrayals happen.”
“Not with one decision.”
“With practice.”
His eyes filled.
“I should have chosen you.”
“No.”
“You should have chosen honesty.”
“Even if I still left.”
He nodded.
“My mother said love meant ensuring the wedding happened.”
“She believed once you walked down the aisle, everything could be fixed later.”
“You believed her.”
“Yes.”
“Because later was always paid for by someone else.”
He accepted the sentence.
Then he asked:
“Do you think any part of us was real?”
The question had haunted me too.
The trips.
The quiet mornings.
The way he held my hand after my first major investor rejected me.
The nights we laughed until two in the morning.
“I think some of it was real.”
His face lifted.
“But real moments do not cancel deliberate harm.”
The hope disappeared.
“I understand.”
“I don’t think you do yet.”
“Maybe prison will give me time.”
“Time does not automatically create change.”
“What does?”
“Responsibility without expecting a reward.”
He looked toward me.
“Will you ever forgive me?”
“I don’t know.”
“Would it change anything if you did?”
“No.”
That answer seemed to release something.
He no longer had forgiveness as another transaction to pursue.
At sentencing, Preston addressed the court.
He apologized to my parents first.
Dad listened.
Mom cried quietly.
Preston admitted that he allowed Cynthia to move them because he believed the wedding mattered more than their dignity.
He apologized to Northline employees.
To Vale employees.
To Olivia.
Then he looked at me.
“I loved Natalie.”
“But I treated her love like an asset I could borrow against.”
The judge sentenced him to seven years.
May you like
As officers led him away, he did not call my name.
It was the first respectful thing he had done in a long time.
