Chapter 5 - THE NIGHT I LEFT MY HUSBAND
After the anniversary dinner, I did not return to the penthouse.
Julian called seventeen times.
Celeste called six.
Sloane sent one message.
You embarrassed yourself tonight.
I deleted it.
Margaret had arranged for me to stay at a townhouse belonging to the Vale family trust.
It was a narrow brick house on a quiet Manhattan street, with bookshelves, old fireplaces, and windows overlooking a small garden.
My mother had loved it.
I had not visited in years.
When I entered, the caretaker had left fresh flowers on the dining table.
Not white lilies.
Yellow tulips.
I sat down and cried.
Not because I wanted Julian back.
Because I finally understood how long I had been lonely while pretending to be married.
At midnight, Margaret arrived.
She placed a folder beside me.
“Your divorce petition is ready.”
I nodded.
“File it.”
She hesitated.
“There are several financial matters we need to address carefully. Your husband's conduct may have consequences for his company, but we must keep the marital proceedings separate from your duties as trustee.”
“I know.”
“Any action involving Northbridge must be based on the company's interests and supported by evidence.”
“I understand.”
Margaret studied me.
“Are you sure?”
I looked at her.
“I don't want to destroy a company because my husband cheated.”
She nodded.
“I want to stop him from using other people's money to finance a lie.”
Margaret's expression softened.
“Then we're doing this correctly.”
The following morning, Julian arrived at the townhouse.
He rang the bell for ten minutes.
I finally answered through the intercom.
“Go home, Julian.”
“Ava, open the door.”
“No.”
“We need to talk.”
“My attorney will contact yours.”
He was silent.
Then he laughed bitterly.
“Are you seriously divorcing me over Sloane?”
I stared at the intercom.
“No.”
“Then what?”
I thought about the hospital.
The flowers.
The forged document.
The ring.
“The marriage ended long before the dinner.”
His voice hardened.
“You'll regret this.”
I closed my eyes.
“Maybe.”
May you like
Then I disconnected the call.
For the first time in eight years, I slept through the night.
