Rose Garden Revenge

For ten years, I, Eleanor Vance, played the perfect wife, silent and supportive, while my celebrated architect husband, Robert, built his monuments of glass and steel-and enjoyed a revolving door of ninety-nine mistresses. But the real crack in my meticulously constructed facade came when his latest, Liam, moved into our guesthouse and began digging up my most cherished possession: my rose garden, a sacred memorial to the two children we lost. Not only did Robert permit this desecration, but he publicly humiliated me, praising Liam as a "dazzling talent" at a lavish party more extravagant than our wedding, while our social circle whispered and pitied me. The ultimate blow came when he used the memory of our dead children as a weapon, ordering me to kneel before Liam. How could he so casually dismiss my grief, my sacrifices, and the sacred space I carved out of our shared tragedy? How could a man I loved with every fiber of my being tear down my very soul for an empty imitation of a past ghost? In that shattering moment, as a cruel smile spread across his face, I knew my love for him was finally dead; and Eleanor Vance, the dutiful wife, chose to embark on a radical, irreversible path to reclaim her life, her dignity, and her legacy, planning a public, messy fight he wouldn' t see coming.