“There isn’t one.”
“You expect me to believe you’re suddenly worried about my house?”
Richard glanced toward the damaged porch.
“I’m not offering to pretend this was entirely my fault. I’m offering to help get it repaired.”
I laughed bitterly.
“So now you’re going to show me how easily your money fixes things?”
“Not everything can be fixed with money, Robert.”
For the first time since I’d met him, Richard sounded tired rather than superior.
I refused his offer.
But that evening, Fletcher asked me a question I couldn’t dismiss.
“If Richard was trying to solve a problem instead of starting another fight, would you even recognize the difference?”
I didn’t answer.
The next morning, I called Richard and accepted an introduction to the contractor, making it clear I would choose who did the work.
He agreed without arguing.
That surprised me more than the offer itself.
The contractor confirmed the earlier assessment and provided a clear plan for stabilizing and repairing the porch.
