“Of course,” Eleanor smiled, feeling the muscles in her face tighten into a false grin. “She’s part of your life now. I’m sure everyone will be interested to meet her.”
Andrew’s face turned red, his breathing grew heavy, but he said nothing. Eleanor could practically see the gears turning in his head. He wanted to announce the divorce, but he wanted to settle the business issue first. Inviting Victoria complicated his plans.
“What did you want to talk about?” she asked, taking a sip of water. The cool liquid soothed her dry throat.
“About the company,” he cleared his throat, fidgeting with his napkin. “We need to decide…”
“After dinner,” Eleanor interrupted gently, placing her hand on the table between them. “On Saturday. In front of everyone. It will be more honest that way,” she emphasized the last word.
Andrew clenched his fists under the table but nodded. He always avoided public confrontations.
Once she was alone, Eleanor called Sarah. Night had enveloped the apartment; only a desk lamp cast a soft, yellow glow.
“Is everything ready?” she asked, pacing the living room.
“Documents, evidence, police reports—all on standby for your signal,” her friend replied. The rustle of papers could be heard over the phone. “Are you sure you want to do this so publicly?”
Eleanor stopped at the window, looking out at the city lights. The thought flashed through her mind: “Do no harm.” Her life’s principle. But was righteous justice harm? Hadn’t Andrew caused her immeasurably more pain?
“Absolutely,” she said firmly, overcoming a moment’s hesitation. “Fifteen years of deceit deserves a public reckoning. I want everyone to know who he really is.”
She ended the call and opened a photo album. The leather cover creaked under her fingers. Their wedding, smiling faces, so much hope. It all seemed like a scene from someone else’s movie now. Eleanor snapped the album shut and reviewed the guest list for Saturday’s dinner. Andrew’s mother, his business partners, their mutual friends. And Victoria. The perfect audience for the final act of the play called “Marriage.”
Her phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
“This is Victoria. We need to talk. Alone.”
Eleanor tensed. What was this? A trap? Was Andrew sending his mistress? Her finger hovered over the keyboard. Reply or ignore? But what if she had information that could change everything?
Finally, she typed: “Friday, 3 PM, The Corner Cafe.” And added: “Come alone.”
The game was getting more complicated, but Eleanor was ready. At the very least, meeting Victoria would give her a chance to look into the eyes of the woman who had destroyed her family. And maybe, just maybe, she would see the same thing she saw in the mirror every morning: fear of the future and the bitter taste of the present.
The Corner Cafe was noisy. The clatter of cups, muffled conversations, the hiss of the espresso machine. But their corner table offered a degree of privacy. Eleanor nervously tapped her fingers on the cool tabletop, watching the door. Victoria was 15 minutes late, arriving breathless, her cheeks flushed. Without makeup and the sapphire necklace, she looked younger, more vulnerable. She smelled of light perfume and anxiety.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet,” she said, her voice trembling as she sat down. Her hands fidgeted with the strap of her purse. “I… I didn’t know who else to turn to.”
“I’m listening,” Eleanor replied coldly, feeling a strange mix of hatred and pity for this woman. “But if this is some kind of trap…”
“No!” Victoria shook her head quickly. “It’s not a trap. I just…” She took a deep breath, like someone about to dive into cold water. “Andrew. He’s not who he says he is,” she blurted out, leaning closer. “I found documents on his laptop. He’s planning to leave both of us with nothing.”
Her blue eyes filled with tears.
“I thought he loved me. But he was just using me. He was funneling money out of the company through my department. I was signing papers without understanding…”
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