Chapter 3

The following week, David hosted his company' s annual charity gala at a lavish downtown hotel. It was the kind of event where our "perfect marriage" was always on full display. As we walked into the grand ballroom, a wave of greetings and compliments washed over us.

"Eleanor, you look stunning! David, you are one lucky man," said one of David' s business partners, his wife nodding in agreement.

"You two are seriously couple goals," a younger colleague gushed. "Ten years and you still look at each other like you' re on your honeymoon."

David beamed, squeezing my hand. "I' m the lucky one, that' s for sure," he said, planting a kiss on my cheek for the crowd.

I smiled, a carefully constructed expression I had perfected over the past week. Each compliment felt like a small twist of a knife. They were all admiring a facade, a beautiful lie I had helped build and maintain. My heart felt hollow, a vast, empty space inside my chest. I was an actress in the final performance of a long-running play.

We mingled, David' s arm possessively around my waist. He was in his element, charming and confident, the loving husband and brilliant businessman all in one. I felt like a prop, an accessory to his carefully curated image.

I excused myself to get a glass of water, needing a moment away from the suffocating pretense. As I stood by the bar, I saw them.

Across the room, standing near a curtained alcove, was Sarah Jenkins. She was no longer the mousy assistant I remembered. She wore an expensive-looking dress, her hair was professionally styled, and she held herself with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. And holding her hand was a small boy in a tiny tuxedo, his dark, curly hair a miniature version of David' s.

My blood ran cold. It was him. It had to be Leo.

My feet felt rooted to the floor. I couldn' t move, couldn' t breathe. It was one thing to know, to hear a voice on the phone. It was another to see them, here, in my world, breathing the same air.

As if sensing my gaze, Sarah looked up and her eyes met mine across the crowded room. A small, triumphant smile played on her lips. It was a look of pure victory. She knew who I was. She wanted me to see them. This wasn't an accident. It was a deliberate act of aggression.

Before I could react, the little boy pulled his hand free and darted into the crowd, weaving through the legs of the guests.

"Leo, come back here!" Sarah called after him, a hint of panic in her voice.

The boy, giggling, ran straight for the one person in the room he recognized as a beacon of safety. He ran straight to David.

He wrapped his small arms around David' s leg, looking up at him with wide, adoring eyes. "Daddy!" he shouted, his voice clear and high, cutting through the din of conversation.

A sudden, sharp silence fell over our immediate circle. Everyone turned to stare. At the boy. At David. At me.

David froze, his face going pale. The charming smile vanished, replaced by a mask of pure panic. He looked from the boy to me, his eyes wide with a desperate plea.

"I... I don' t know who this child is," he stammered, trying to gently pry the boy' s arms from his leg. "He must be lost."

But the boy held on tight. "No! You' re my daddy! Mommy said we could come see you at your party!" he insisted, his lower lip beginning to tremble. He pointed a small finger directly at Sarah, who was now hurrying toward them. "See? There' s Mommy!"

The pieces clicked into place with horrifying clarity. The "business trips." He hadn't been flying to Chicago or San Francisco. He had been driving across town. He had set her and his children up in a house, a secret life running in parallel to ours, just miles away. Every time he' d said he was working late, every time he' d claimed to be at a conference, he was with them. The deception was deeper, more constant, than I had ever imagined.

Sarah arrived, scooping the boy into her arms. She looked at David with feigned apology, but her eyes, when they flickered to me, were full of malice.

"I am so sorry, Mr. Thorne," she said, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Leo was just so excited to see you. He misses you so much when you' re... away."

The double meaning was unmistakable. She was twisting the knife.

Then I saw it. On the third finger of her left hand. A platinum ring with a small, elegant diamond. It wasn' t an engagement ring, but a promise ring. It was from the same designer collection as the necklace David had just bought for me. He was buying them both gifts from the same store, marking his two women with trinkets from the same collection. The thought was so grotesque, so deeply insulting, it almost made me laugh.

The crowd around us was a blur of shocked faces and curious whispers. David' s perfect world was crumbling in public, and he had no idea how to stop it. He just stood there, speechless, exposed as a liar and a cheat in front of his colleagues, his partners, and his wife.

I looked at him, at the panic in his eyes, and I felt nothing. No anger, no sadness. Just a profound, chilling emptiness. He wasn't my husband anymore. He was just a man I used to know, a stranger whose lies had finally caught up with him.

I turned, without a word, and walked away. I could feel every eye in the room on my back. I didn't care. I walked out of the ballroom, out of the hotel, and into the cool night air, leaving the ruins of my marriage behind me.