The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 272

Garrison stood by the altar, staring at the gleaming trophies and medals.

They were neatly arranged on the table, a quiet testament built of crystal, metal, and yellowing paper. It felt as if Sloane herself were standing right there, laying out everything she had accomplished in her life—things she had never shown anyone before.

"Did Mommy really win all those?" Archie asked in a small, soft voice, lifting his red, tear-stained face.

Garrison nodded, his eyes locked on the black-and-white photograph resting on the altar.

"Yes. Mommy was an incredible, brilliant person."

"But why didn't she keep them at home? Why didn't she let anyone see how amazing she was?"

Archie lowered his head, whispering to himself, "I always thought Mommy was... was... just an ordinary person. Not as smart as Daddy or Quinn. I even thought... thought she was dumb..."

Archie's words hit Garrison like a physical blow, a suffocating wave of sorrow twisting in his chest.

From age ten to twenty-one. These were honors Sloane had earned before they even got married. She had never mentioned them, so naturally, Garrison had never known.

But...

Garrison lifted his head. His gaze shot past the altar, past the trophies and certificates, and landed squarely on Jackson's face.

In the exact moment Garrison looked over, Jackson's eyes darted away.

The evasion was brief, lasting less than a second, but it was enough. Those eyes—which shared the exact same shape as Sloane's—avoided Garrison's stare, flicked toward the trophies on the altar, and then quickly snapped away again. It was as if those awards weren't symbols of honor, but a dark secret he couldn't bear to look at.

Garrison understood everything in an instant.

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