Then his phone lit up on the dresser.
A message appeared across the screen.
Vanessa: I’m downstairs. Don’t make me wait too long.
I looked at the name.
Vanessa Cole.
Director of Public Relations at Bennett Strategic Holdings.
Beautiful.
Polished.
Recently divorced.
And according to Adrian, “one of the few people at work who actually understood pressure.”
I had heard her name a lot over the past six months.
Too much.
I looked at him.
“Vanessa is downstairs?”
His expression changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“She’s riding with me because we have to coordinate the press schedule.”
“Are you taking her to the gala?”
“We work together.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Adrian slid the phone into his pocket.
“I’m not doing this tonight.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
He stopped.
Then slowly turned around.
There are answers people give with words.
And there are answers they give by refusing to use them.
His silence was enough.
My stomach tightened.
But I didn’t cry.
Adrian picked up his jacket.
“Don’t embarrass yourself, Claire.”
I almost smiled.
“Interesting choice of words.”
He walked to the bedroom door.
Before leaving, he looked over his shoulder.
“Try not to turn this into one of your dramas.”
Then he left.
A minute later, I heard the front door close.
His car started.
And the house went quiet.
I stood there until the last flame died.
Then I walked to the window.
Adrian’s black sedan disappeared at the end of the street.
Vanessa was sitting beside him.
I knew because I saw the outline of her silver dress through the passenger window.
Eleven years of marriage drove away from my house without looking back.
And strangely, the thing I felt most was relief.
Because once someone shows you exactly what they think you are worth, you stop wasting energy trying to negotiate.
I picked up my phone.
There was a number saved under a name Adrian had never once asked about.
Ruth Ellison.
I pressed call.
She answered on the second ring.
“Ms. Bennett?”
“It’s Claire.”
Her tone changed immediately.
“Claire? Is everything all right?”
I looked at the burned dress.
“No.”
A pause.
“What happened?”
“My husband believes I won’t be attending tonight.”
Another pause.
Ruth had worked with my family for twenty-three years.
She knew how much of Adrian’s career I had quietly protected.
She also knew I had refused every public appearance connected to the company since my father’s funeral.
Finally she asked:
“Would you like us to arrange your arrival?”
“Yes.”
“Private entrance?”
I looked at the ashes again.
“No.”
This time, I wanted Adrian to see me.
“Main entrance.”
Ruth was silent for half a second.
“Understood.”
“And call Leonard.”
“The chairman?”
“Yes.”
“Should I tell him why?”
“No. Tell him I want an emergency board call within thirty minutes.”
Her voice became more serious.
“Claire, is this about Adrian?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
“Tell Evelyn I want every flagged transaction involving Adrian’s division sent to my attorney immediately.”
