Chapter 5

The house felt wrong.

I stood in the kitchen, staring at the untouched breakfast on the counter. The cook had made my usual—black coffee, scrambled eggs, and bread. Everything exactly as it had been every morning for the past three years. Everything was exactly the same, except Emily wasn't sitting at the small table by the window, quietly eating while reading some book.

I shook my head. Why was I even thinking about that?

"Alex, baby, are you listening to me?"

Vanessa's voice cut through my thoughts. She was on the couch in the living room, wearing one of my shirts and nothing else. Her legs were stretched across another cushion, and she was scrolling through her phone with one hand while gesturing with the other.

"I said we need to redecorate this place. It is so boring and old-fashioned. My interior designer friend can come by this weekend."

I turned to look at her. Vanessa had always been beautiful, the kind of woman every guy would want. Her blonde hair always drew attention, and her smile was perfect. This was what I had wanted, wasn't it? This was the woman I had chosen.

So why did something feel off?

"The house is fine," I said, taking a sip of my coffee.

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Alex, this place screams old married couple. Emily had no style at all. The colors are dull, and the furniture is boring. We need to make it ours."

Emily had decorated this house. I remembered now how excited she had been when we first moved in. She had spent weeks picking out colors and furniture, asking for my opinion on everything. I had barely paid attention, too busy with work to care about throw pillows and paint samples.

"I liked the way Emily decorated," I found myself saying.

Vanessa's expression darkened. "Are you seriously defending her right now? Alex, she is gone. Now we can finally live our lives without that sad little mouse following you around."

Sad little mouse. Is that how Vanessa saw Emily? Is that how I had seen her too?

My phone buzzed on the counter. A text from my assistant.

"Mr. Reed, Mrs. Hamilton called asking if you and Mrs. Reed will be attending the charity gala next Friday. Should I confirm?"

Mrs. Reed. Emily had loved those galas. She would spend days picking out a dress, getting excited about seeing people we barely talked to. I always complained about going, making her feel guilty for wanting to attend social events.

"Just tell them I will be going alone," I texted back.

"Actually, baby," Vanessa said, suddenly appearing beside me and wrapping her arms around my waist. "We should go together. I have the perfect dress, and it will be good for people to see us as a couple."

The way she said it made my stomach turn. Like Emily had been nothing more than a placeholder, and now Vanessa could finally take her rightful place.

"People will talk," I said.

"Let them talk. Everyone knew you guys were not fit for each other. You did Emily a favor by letting her go."

Did I do Emily a favor? The words echoed in my head as I went upstairs to get ready for work. I paused outside the master bedroom. Vanessa had moved all her things in here, just like she said she would. Emily's clothes were gone from the closet. Her books were gone from the shelf. Even her pillow was gone.

It was like she had never existed.

I grabbed a suit from my side of the closet and headed to the guest bathroom to shower. I could not use the master bathroom anymore. Vanessa had taken it over completely, her makeup and hair products covering every surface.

The water was hot, but I felt cold inside.

At the office, I threw myself into work the way I always did. Meetings, phone calls, and contracts to review. This was where I belonged, where everything made sense. This was who I was—Alexander Reed, CEO, successful businessman. Not a husband, not anymore.

"Mr. Reed?" My assistant, Janet, knocked on my office door. "Your lunch meeting with the Peterson group has been moved to next week. Also, there are some documents that need your wife's signature for the joint account transfer."

Wife. The word hit me like a punch to the gut.

"I do not have a wife anymore," I said quietly.

Janet's face went white. "Oh, I am so sorry, sir. I did not know. Should I contact Mrs. Reed directly for the signature?"

Mrs. Reed. Emily was still Mrs. Reed, legally. We had not even talked about divorce yet. She had just left, and I had let her go without a second thought.

"No," I said. "Hold off on those documents for now."

After Janet left, I found myself staring out the window at the city below. Somewhere out there, Emily was living her life without me. For the first time, I wondered where she had gone. Did she have money? A place to stay? Friends who would take care of her?

I realized I did not know anything about Emily's life outside of our marriage. Did she have friends? Hobbies? Dreams that did not involve me?

My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. It was Vanessa.

"Hey babe, I am at the mall with my sister. Can I use your credit card? I saw the cutest dress, and I want to get it for the gala."

"Fine," I said, not really listening.

"Thanks! Oh, and I invited a few people over for dinner tonight. Nothing fancy, just some friends. You do not mind, right?"

I minded. I minded a lot. This was my house, my space, my life. When had Vanessa started making decisions without asking me?

"Vanessa, I had a long day. I just want to come home and relax."

"Ugh, Alex, you are being so boring. Emily really influenced you. Always staying home, never wanting to socialize. Come on, live a little!"

Emily loved staying home. She would make dinner, light candles, and try to create those quiet, intimate moments I always ignored. She never complained when I worked late or canceled plans. She just waited.

She was always waiting.

"Fine," I said. "But keep it small."

When I got home that evening, the house was full of people I barely knew. Vanessa's friends were loud and drunk, music was blasting, and someone had spilled red wine on Emily's favorite white rug.

"Alex!" Vanessa threw her arms around me, already tipsy. "Everyone, this is my Alex. Isn't he handsome?"

My Alex? Like I was some prize she had won. I felt like a fool.

I made small talk for an hour before escaping to my study. Even there, I could hear the noise from downstairs. Emily would have never thrown a party like this. She was always considerate, always thinking about others.

Always thinking about me.

I poured myself a drink and sat in my chair, trying to focus on some reports. That is when I saw it—a small painting on the bookshelf that I had never noticed before. It was a landscape, soft blues and greens, peaceful and beautiful. In the corner, I could see tiny initials:E.C.

Emily Carter. Emily had painted this.

I took the painting down and studied it closer. It was really good, professional quality. When had Emily painted this? When had she found the time, with all the hours she spent taking care of the house and taking care of me?

"There you are!" Vanessa barged in."What are you doing hiding up here?"

"Just working," I said, quickly putting the painting back.

"Work, work, work. You are just like Emily, so boring." She sat down on my lap, her perfume overwhelming. "Come back to the party. Jessica wants to meet you."

"I am tired, Vanessa. Can you ask your friends to leave?"

Her face twisted into an ugly expression. "You are ruining my fun, Alex. I have been stuck in this boring house all day while you were at work. I deserve to have some excitement."

Stuck. She felt stuck in my house, in our life. Emily had never complained about being home. She had seemed happy just being there, being with me.

Had she been happy? Or had she just been good at hiding her sadness?

"Please, Vanessa. Not tonight."

She stood up, swaying slightly. "You know what your problem is, Alex? Emily made you boring. She turned you into some old man who just wants to sit around reading papers, but I am going to fix that. I am going to make you fun again."

She stumbled back to the party, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I picked up Emily's painting again. The woman who had painted this was not boring. She was talented, creative, and thoughtful. She saw beauty where others might see nothing.

When had I stopped seeing Emily at all?

The party finally ended around midnight. Vanessa passed out on the couch, still in her party dress. The house was a mess—empty bottles, food on the floor, and that red wine stain on Emily's rug.

Emily would have cleaned it all up. She would have made sure I had a peaceful home to come back to.

I stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, looking at Vanessa's things scattered everywhere. Her clothes on the floor, her makeup covering the dresser, her shoes kicked off carelessly.

Emily had always been neat and organized. She took care of things and took care of me.

For the first time since she left, I wondered if I had made a mistake.

For the first time since she left, I missed my wife, but it was too late now. Emily was gone, and I had no one to blame but myself.

The house felt wrong because Emily was not in it, and I was starting to think I might be wrong too.

A thought came to me that maybe Vanessa was right. If Emily was not boring at all, why would I have chosen to be with Vanessa in the first place? I forced the thoughts of Emily aside immediately.