The Anniversary Gift

Vespera's pov

The candles had burned down to the wicks, leaving pools of hardened wax on the imported tablecloth.

I stared at the cold Risotto. It was the third time I’d reheated it, and at this point, it was essentially glue. I adjusted my glasses, the heavy black frames sliding down my nose, and checked my watch.

11:45 PM.

“Happy Anniversary, Vespera,” I whispered to the empty room, my voice cracking just a little.

I reached for my wine glass, but my hand paused when the front door’s biometric lock beeped. The heavy oak door swung open, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

Randell Sterling walked in.

He was a man who looked like he was carved from marble and dressed by the devil—sharp, expensive, and devastatingly cold. He didn’t look at the dining room. He didn’t look at the decorations I had spent all day setting up. He was typing on his phone, his thumb moving furiously.

“You’re late,” I said, standing up. I smoothed the skirt of my vintage floral dress—a dress I knew made me look frumpy, but Randell had once said he preferred “modest” women.

Randell stopped walking. He didn’t look up from his screen. “I’m working. Go to bed.”

“It’s our fifth anniversary, Randell.”

He finally looked up. His eyes, the color of a stormy sea, held zero emotion. No guilt. No affection. Just mild irritation, like I was a software update popping up at an inconvenient time.

“I had the finance department wire fifty thousand to your personal account this morning,” he said, loosening his tie. “Buy yourself something. Jewelry. A new vacuum. Whatever it is you do all day.”

I felt the familiar sting in my chest, but I swallowed it down. “I don’t want money. I made dinner. I thought we could—”

“I ate at the office,” he cut me off, walking past me toward the stairs. “And I’m leaving for Tokyo in the morning. Pack my carry-on. The black one.”

“Tokyo?” I followed him to the foot of the stairs. “But Leo has his school play on Friday. You promised him you’d be there. He’s playing the lead tree.”

He let out a short, mocking scoff. “A tree. Riveting. I have a merger to close, Vespera. Explain it to him. That’s your job, isn’t it? You’re the mother.”

“I’m his mother when it’s convenient for you to ignore him,” I snapped. The sudden bite in my tone made him pause. He turned slowly on the step, towering over me.

“Careful,” he warned, his voice low. “Don’t forget who pays for the roof over your head. You live in luxury because I work. You have a purpose, Vespera. Fulfill it quietly.”

He turned back around. “Oh, and bring the file on the entry table to my office tomorrow morning. I forgot to sign it. Don’t be late.”

He disappeared upstairs.

I stood there, shaking. I looked at the cold dinner. I looked at the wedding photo on the mantle—Randell looking bored, me looking at him like he was the sun.

God, I was pathetic, I thought.

I wasn’t going to cry. I was done crying. But I wasn’t going to sleep, either.

The next morning, I dropped Leo off at school—he barely waved goodbye, too busy playing on the iPad Randell had bought him to keep him quiet—and drove to Sterling Corp.

I had the file. I also had a thermos of Randell’s favorite coffee blend. Maybe, if the mood was right, I could talk to him about the Tokyo trip again.

The receptionist, Elaine, didn’t even look up when I approached. “He’s in a meeting, Mrs. Sterling.”

“I know,” I said, clutching the file. “He asked me to drop this off.”

“He said no interruptions.”

“I’m his wife, Elaine. Not a solicitor.” I walked past the desk. I knew the code to the executive elevator. I had written the security algorithm for the building’s beta phase under a pseudonym four years ago, a little fact Randell knew nothing about.

When the elevator pinged on the top floor, the silence was unsettling.

Ryan, Randell’s personal assistant, wasn’t at his desk. The floor was empty.

I frowned. I walked down the long glass corridor toward Randell’s corner office. The blinds were usually drawn, but today, one slat was twisted, leaving a gap.

I raised my hand to knock, but a sound stopped me.

A laugh.

It was a woman’s laugh—throaty, satisfied, and familiar.

“Randell, stop… we have to sign the papers…”

“The papers can wait.”

My blood ran cold. That voice. It sounded like Caroline, the head of PR. The woman I had invited to dinner last Christmas. The woman who had smiled at me and called me ‘sweetie.’

I stepped closer to the gap in the blinds. I knew I shouldn’t look. I knew it would kill me.

I looked.

Randell was sitting in his leather chair, his head thrown back. Caroline was straddling his lap, her pencil skirt hiked up to her hips, her back to the door. Her hands were tangled in Randell’s hair—the hair I was afraid to touch because he hated being ‘pawed at.’

He wasn’t pushing her away. His hands were gripping Caroline’s waist, his knuckles white, pulling her down harder.

I felt the bile rise in my throat. The thermos slipped from my numb fingers.

CLANG.

The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet corridor.

Inside the office, the motion stopped instantly. Randell’s head snapped toward the door. Through the gap, his eyes locked with mine.

He didn’t panic. He didn’t shove Caroline off. He simply stared at me, his expression hardening into annoyed steel.

Caroline turned around, flushed and disheveled. When she saw me, a slow, cat-like smirk spread across her lips. She leisurely climbed off Randell, smoothing her skirt but leaving the top buttons of her blouse undone.

I pushed the door open. My legs felt like lead.

“Vespera,” Randell said, his voice terrifyingly calm. He adjusted his tie. “I told you to leave the file with Elaine.”

“You…” My voice failed me. “You’re sleeping with her.”

“I’m relieving stress,” he said, as if discussing a stock option. “Caroline understands my needs. You understand… housekeeping.”

“I am your wife!” I screamed, the tears finally spilling over. “I have given you everything! Five years, Randell! I gave you a son!”

“A son?” Caroline laughed. It was a cruel, tinkling sound. “Oh, honey. Speaking of Leo…”

She pressed a button on the intercom on Randell’s desk. “Ryan? You can bring him in now.”

I froze. “What?”

The side door to the office—the one leading to the private lounge—opened. Ryan walked in, looking sheepish. And holding his hand was Leo.

My heart stopped. “Leo? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at school.”

Leo looked at me, then at Caroline.

Caroline crouched down, opening her arms. “Hey, buddy! Look who’s here!”

Leo’s face lit up. Not for me.

“Mommy C!” Leo shouted, yanking his hand away from Ryan. He ran past me—actually bumping into my leg without stopping—and launched himself into Caroline’s arms.

I staggered back, clutching the doorframe for support. The world tilted on its axis. “Leo…?”

Caroline hugged the boy tight, looking up at me with triumphant eyes. “He was bored at school, so Randell picked him up. We’ve been having a great morning, haven’t we, Leo?”

“Yeah!” Leo chirped. He held up a brand new, limited edition gaming console. “Caroline bought me this! And she said I don’t have to eat broccoli ever again! She’s way better than you!”

The air left my lungs.

“Leo,” I whispered, my hand reaching out, trembling. “Baby, you don’t mean that. Come to Mommy.”

Leo recoiled, burying his face in Caroline’s neck. “No! Go away! You’re boring and you wear ugly clothes! I want Daddy and Caroline!”

Silence engulfed the room. The hum of the server room down the hall was the only sound.

Randell stood up, walking around the desk to stand next to Caroline and Leo. They looked like a family. The perfect, photogenic family. I was just the stain on the lens.

“You heard him,” Randell said coldly. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a thick envelope. He tossed it onto the glass conference table. It slid across the surface and stopped right in front of me.

“Divorce papers,” he stated. “I was going to give them to you tonight, but this saves time. Sign them, Vespera. You’ll get a generous alimony, enough to keep you in those terrible sweaters for life. But full custody stays with me.”

“You can’t take my son,” I choked out.

“I can. And I will. Look at him,” he gestured to the boy who was now showing Caroline a game on his device, completely ignoring my agony. “He doesn’t need you. And frankly, neither do I.”

I looked at them. The trio. The wall of ice and indifference.

Something inside my chest fractured. It wasn’t a crack; it was a complete break. And strangely, once the break happened, the pain stopped.

It was replaced by a cold, hum of clarity. Like a computer rebooting in safe mode.

I reached up and took off my glasses. I dropped them on the floor.

Crunch.

I stepped on them with my heel.

I walked to the table, picked up the pen, and signed the papers without reading a single word.

“Done,” I said. My voice was different now. The waver was gone. The softness was gone. It was flat, monotone.

“Good,” Randell said, slightly surprised by my speed. “Ryan will escort you out.”

“No need.”

I turned to leave. I didn’t look at Leo. If I looked at him, I would die. I had to leave now if I wanted to survive.

As I reached the door, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A specific ringtone. One I hadn’t heard in six years.

I pulled it out. The screen flashed a single name: Julian Thorne.

Randell’s biggest rival. The shark of Silicon Valley.

I answered it, my eyes locking with Randell’s one last time.

“It’s V,” I said into the phone, my voice loud enough for the whole room to hear. “I accept the offer, Liam. I’m free. And I’m ready to burn a kingdom down.”

I hung up, turned my heel, and walked out, leaving the door wide open behind me.