At the airport, my father sighed contemptuously:

— No. It makes me feel free.

Before returning to the stage, I looked at my father one last time:
« The worst pain wasn’t losing the company. It was realizing that my family only appreciated me when it was convenient for them. »

He nodded, ashamed:
« I let you down. »

I almost believed in his sincerity, but some forgiveness comes too late. So I offered him what he wasn’t expecting:
« I forgive you, » I said. « Not because you deserve it, but because I can. »

He was speechless.
— You were right about one thing, I added, looking at the glittering banner. — The economy, I don’t manage that.

I was never destined to fly so low.

I returned to the stage, concluding my speech on resilience and the importance of being underestimated.

My father and Brielle watched from the exit, while the audience rose to their feet in applause. When it was all over, Tessa handed me my coat:
« You did it. »

— No, I smile. — I just stopped letting them define what success is.

Outside, the city sparkled. My jet was waiting for me on the private runway.
« Back to California, ma’am? » Grant asked as I boarded.

— At home, I replied, smiling.

As the plane lifted off into the night, I remembered this morning at the airport — the laughter, the humiliation.
Now, high above them, I understood: some goodbyes are written at great heights.