“This is taken out of context!” Andrew jumped up, knocking over his glass. Dark red wine spread across the white tablecloth like blood. “Eleanor doesn’t understand the basics of business! This is just standard restructuring!”
“Eleanor,” a neighbor started, “are you sure? Perhaps it’s a… misunderstanding?”
“I understand perfectly.” She took out the folder, heavy with the papers inside. Pages rustled as she pulled out a document. “These are the articles of incorporation. The company is in my name. You’re just the managing director who decided to steal what didn’t belong to him.”
Carol Peterson turned to her son. Her face went from pale to crimson.
“Is it true?” she asked in a strangled voice. “You stole from your wife?”
“Mom… she’s exaggerating,” he stammered, clenching and unclenching his fists. “We built this together…”
“On her money,” Victoria’s voice cut through the room.
All heads turned to her. The scraping of chairs broke the silence.
“I’ve seen the documents. I’m sorry, Andrew, but I won’t be an accomplice to fraud.” She stood, squared her shoulders, and crossed the room to Eleanor’s side, a symbolic gesture of her allegiance.
“You…!” Andrew choked with rage, taking a step toward them. “You promised!”
“Promised what?” Dave interjected. “To cover for your schemes? To keep stealing from your wife?”
The room erupted. Dave demanded an explanation, his baritone drowning out the others. An elderly couple from next door whispered, casting judgmental glances at Andrew. One of his colleagues slipped out, the door slamming loudly behind him. His mother was weeping, clutching her heart and her head.
“Everyone, quiet!” Mike, Eleanor’s brother, who had been silent until now, suddenly raised his voice. He stepped between Eleanor and Andrew as Andrew took another menacing step toward his wife.
“I think everything is clear without another word.”
“Thank you all for your attention,” Eleanor said, turning off the projector with a click. “Dinner is canceled. For those interested in the details, my lawyer has copies of all the documents.”
The guests began to leave: the scrape of chairs, the rustle of clothes, quiet murmurs. Dave lingered, wiping his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief.
“I always knew you were the brains of the operation,” he mumbled awkwardly. “Call me tomorrow. We’ll fix this.”
Carol Peterson, to Eleanor’s surprise, hugged her goodbye. Her soft hands smelled of her usual perfume and home baking.
“My son is a fool,” she said, pulling back to look Eleanor in the eye. A wrinkled hand gently touched her cheek. “But you… you are a real woman. I was proud to call you my daughter.”
When everyone had gone, Andrew stood alone in the middle of the living room. Mike reluctantly stepped out onto the balcony to give them a moment. The apartment was filled with the stale smell of candles and the bitterness of a ruined celebration. Andrew’s face was blotchy and red. He looked as if he genuinely didn’t understand how this had all happened.
“You’ve destroyed me,” he hissed, stepping toward her. “Everything I built all these years. Are you happy? Is this your revenge?”
Eleanor shook her head, feeling not triumph, but a strange emptiness.
“No,” she answered honestly. “I’m not getting revenge. I’m just protecting myself. And you know what? I could press charges. People go to prison for fraud.” She paused, looking at the man she had spent 15 years of her life with. “But I won’t. Because even now, I’m following my doctor’s oath: do no harm. Even when the patient deserves it.”
“You always had to be so perfect, didn’t you?” he laughed bitterly. “Always the righteous, principled Eleanor. And I’m just the bad husband who couldn’t give you a child.”
It was a low blow. Eleanor flinched as if she’d been slapped.
“You know it’s not about that,” she replied quietly. “You betrayed me. In every possible way. Now pack your things and get out.”
“We’re not done talking…”
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