Chapter 3

I pushed past him and walked into the apartment.

The air was stale with the smell of alcohol and cheap perfume. Empty beer bottles and dirty plates littered the coffee table. The whole place was a mess.

I walked straight to the bathroom. He followed me, still talking, still trying to spin his web of lies.

"Ava, please, just listen to me. It's not what you think."

I ignored him. I reached into the small trash can next to the toilet. Buried under some tissues was a used condom.

I held it up between my thumb and forefinger.

The air went still. All his words, all his excuses, died on his lips.

He stared at the small, damning piece of evidence, his face turning a sickly shade of gray. The lie was indefensible.

He stood there, mute and exposed, as I dropped it back into the trash.

Then, with an almost unbelievable audacity, his mind shifted. "It's my birthday, Ava," he said, his voice a pathetic whine. "Where's my gift?"

I almost laughed. My gift. The gift I had planned to give him was the signed contract, the one now sitting in a thousand pieces in the office shredder. The contract that would have been his future.

Instead, I had a different gift for him now.

I walked back into the living room, my mind clear.

"Who came to your party tonight, Mark?" I asked, my voice even.

He started listing names, colleagues from his department. "Steve was here, and Maria, David from accounting..." He named half a dozen people, a nervous tremor in his voice.

But he omitted one name. The most important one.

"And Ms. Jenkins?" I prompted softly.

His face went pale again. That deliberate omission was the final confirmation. It shattered the last microscopic sliver of hope that there might be some part of him worth saving.

He opened his mouth to lie again, but I didn't give him the chance.

I walked to my purse, pulled out a folded document, and placed it on the messy coffee table.

A divorce agreement.

Mark' s fake, pleading smile froze on his face. He stared at the papers as if they were a snake.

"Ava Reed, what is this?" he stammered, his voice cracking. He used my full name, the one he knew connected me to a world of wealth and power he desperately craved.

"I can't tolerate disloyalty, Mark," I said, my voice cold and final. "I saw you. With her. At the office."

He flinched as if I had struck him. "Ava, let me explain! It was just a show! Ms. Jenkins promised she would promote me if I... if I played along!"

"A show?" I asked, gesturing towards the bathroom. "And what about that? Was that part of the show, too?"

All the color drained from his face. He looked from me to the bathroom, trapped.

"Sign the papers, Mark," I demanded.

As I turned to leave, grabbing my purse and the keys I' d left on the counter, I stopped at the door.

"This apartment is in my name, Mark. My father bought it for me before we were married. You should find a new place to live."

I walked out, closing the door softly behind me, leaving him alone in the wreckage of his own making.