His Downfall, Her Freedom

k with the scent of expensiv

nt to ten years of marriage, but the party fel

ght was a story, a life, and I felt as distant from them as I did from the people in my own living room. I had designed this

was

rse, h

led easily. I felt like a ghost in my own home, my presence acknowledged with polite, dismissive smiles. I had sacrifi

and a wave of noise and energ

e an entrance. His voice, charismatic

p a mentorship session. You know how impor

no older than twenty, with wide, naive eyes and a nervous smile. This was Chl

n the small of her back. He didn't even look at me. H

he announced. "An incredible talent

e leaned down and whispered something in her ear, and she giggled. It was a

hten in my stomach. Th

his gaze as if my very presence was an inconvenien

rink, will you? She'

r a coffee. It was not a request. It was a comma

hat crept up my neck. My hands trembled. For a mome

stiff. I could feel their eyes on me. I poured a glass of champ

nd handed the g

you go,

flat, devoi

g my eyes. "Thank y

re of ownership. "See? Ava takes care of ever

ience, leaving me standin

iness partners. They were talking about IPOs and mar

er suit, turned to me. "So, Ava, what is it you

itect," I said

asked, one ey

he words tasting like ash in my mouth. It was the story I had t

that' s... sweet. It' s so importan

lic from a past life, a homemaker in a room full of empire builders. My degree, my talent, it all mea

scape, his voice low and intimate. I knew this routine. I had seen him do it with Sarah, with Jessica, with Emily. A ne

the permanent, silent fixture in the background of his

t, I began to clear the empty glasses, the silence

ming to himself. He loosened his tie

t it? Made some impo

e didn't mention my feelings. He did

ooked at him. The man I had loved was gone, replaced b

le where I' d left them hours ago, hidden beneath a maga

to him and h

nniversar

bold letters on the top

short, cruel b

matic, Ava. You do

look at them, and tossed them onto the counter, where

id, gesturing to the mes

of our life. The city lights outside seemed to mock me, a mi

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