Chapter 7 - THE HUSBAND WHO FINALLY CAME HOME
Vincent returned three days later.
This time, he came with flowers.
White lilies.
My favorites.
I watched him through the gate camera.
Then sighed.
He looked exhausted.
His tie was crooked.
His eyes were shadowed.
For a moment, I remembered the man I'd married.
The man who used to bring me coffee in bed.
The man who had once kissed my forehead before every business trip.
But memories weren't enough.
I pressed the intercom.
“Vincent.”
He looked up.
“Claire.”
I waited.
He swallowed.
“I made a mistake.”
I stared.
“A mistake?”
He looked down.
“Several.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Five nights in hotel suites with your secretary isn't a mistake.”
His expression tightened.
“I know.”
I took a breath.
“Then what do you want?”
He looked directly into the camera.
“My wife.”
The words hurt.
Because once, I would have given anything to hear them.
Now they sounded like an attempt to reclaim something he'd thrown away.
I closed my eyes.
“Vincent.”
He waited.
“Your wife asked you to come home five times.”
His face changed.
I continued.
May you like
“You didn't.”
Then I ended the call.
