She smiled.
"I already am."
He laughed.
And for many years, their life was beautiful.
Not perfect.
There were financial crises, difficult employees, failed investments, and exhausting months when Samuel barely slept.
But they faced everything together.
Their greatest sorrow came when they discovered they could not have children.
For a while, Eleanor struggled with the news.
Samuel found her one evening sitting in the nursery they had begun preparing.
The walls were pale yellow.
A small wooden crib stood near the window.
She held a folded baby blanket in her lap.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Samuel knelt beside her.
"For what?"
"For not giving you a son."
He took her hands.
"Eleanor, you gave me a life."
She began crying.
He held her until the room grew dark.
Eventually, they decided that their family could take another form.
They established scholarships for young people interested in mechanical engineering and watchmaking.
They funded apprenticeships.
They helped employees continue their education.
And they quietly supported families struggling with medical expenses.
One of the young people they helped was Daniel Brooks.
Daniel had grown up on Chicago's South Side with his mother and two younger sisters.
His father died when he was eleven.
By sixteen, Daniel was working evenings at a grocery store.
He was intelligent, ambitious, and determined to attend college.
But when his mother became ill, the family's savings disappeared.
Daniel nearly abandoned his education.
Then a counselor told him about the Carter Foundation.
He applied for a scholarship.
Three weeks later, he received a letter.
His tuition would be covered.
His books would be paid for.
And he would have an opportunity to complete a paid internship at Carter & Sons.
Daniel read the letter three times.
Then he showed it to his mother.
She cried.
For the first time in months, they had something to celebrate.
Daniel met Samuel during his first internship.
He expected a distant millionaire in an expensive suit.
Instead, he found a gray-haired man sitting at a workbench, repairing an old pocket watch.
"Mr. Carter?" Daniel asked.
Samuel looked up.
"That's me."
"I'm Daniel Brooks."
Samuel smiled.
"You're the scholarship student."
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Sit down."
Daniel sat.
Samuel handed him a tiny screwdriver.
"Ever worked on a mechanical watch?"
"No, sir."
"Then today you're going to learn."
That afternoon, Daniel discovered that Samuel Carter was nothing like the businessmen he had imagined.
He was demanding.
He expected punctuality.
He hated excuses.
But he treated people fairly.
When Daniel made mistakes, Samuel corrected him without humiliation.
When he succeeded, Samuel praised the work rather than the person doing it.
And when Daniel graduated from college, Samuel attended the ceremony.
He stood beside Daniel's mother as the young man walked across the stage.
Afterward, Daniel embraced him.
"Thank you, Mr. Carter."
Samuel shook his head.
"You earned that degree."
"I couldn't have done it without you."
Samuel smiled.
"Then make sure somebody else gets the same chance."
Daniel never forgot.
He worked his way through the company, eventually becoming operations director.
By then, Eleanor had died.
Her death changed Samuel in ways few people understood.
She had been diagnosed with cancer six years earlier.
At first, the doctors were optimistic.
Then the treatments stopped working.
Samuel spent months beside her hospital bed.
He would read to her.
Tell her stories about the business.
Bring photographs of employees and their families.
And sometimes, when she was strong enough, Eleanor would ask about the stores.
"Are the customers happy?"
Samuel smiled.
"Mostly."
"Are the employees being kind?"
"Yes."
She squeezed his hand.
"Promise me something."
"Anything."
"Don't let success make you forget why we started."
Samuel leaned closer.
"I won't."
She looked into his eyes.
"Money can build a beautiful store, Samuel. But only kindness can make people feel welcome inside it."
He nodded.
"I promise."
Eleanor died on a quiet Sunday morning.
Samuel was holding her hand.
For months afterward, he could barely enter the flagship boutique.
Every corner reminded him of her.
The display cases she had selected.
The chandeliers she had argued were too expensive.
The little office where she used to eat lunch.
And the photograph behind the counter, taken on the day their first store opened.
Eventually, Samuel stepped away from daily operations.
He appointed executives.
Delegated responsibilities.
Attended fewer meetings.
And spent more time working with the foundation.