Chapter 5

I got home at exactly 4 p.m. Usually, the house would have been filled with Layla’s bubbly voice, but it was eerily quiet.

I called out to the housekeeper. She rushed out from the kitchen and hurried towards me.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Vance,” she said, taking my purse from me.

“Where's Layla?”

“Sir dropped her off at the family house.”

“What did she have for breakfast?” I asked, walking towards the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water.

“Miss Moore made pancakes and eggs for breakfast.”

I paused with the glass of water mid-air.

“Sophia was here?” I asked, glancing at her.

“Yes, ma’am. Sir asked her to come. She helped Layla get ready, and made breakfast before they left.”

I took a sip of water. “This morning?”

She nodded. “I assumed it was for one of Layla’s lessons since she skipped school today.”

I stared at her for a moment.

“Alright then, prepare pasta with shrimp sauce for dinner.”

“Okay, ma’am,” she said, as I turned to walk upstairs.

Once in my room, I pulled out my phone and called Ethan. He picked up almost immediately.

“Jesus! Mia, where have you been?”

“I got your message, Ethan. I also need to talk to you,” I said, ignoring his question.

“Alright babe, I'll send the driver to come get you.”

“Okay.” I hung up before he could say another word.

“I need to find myself a divorce lawyer,” I muttered under my breath, heading into the bathroom to freshen up.

***

I looked out of the window, admiring the dark clouds. The stars glittered and the moon offered a soft light. Usually, night rides should be peaceful. But, how could it be when my heart was beating rapidly in my chest?

I had gone over the words I wanted to say to Ethan, countless times in my head. But, my palms grew sweatier with every turn the driver took. Each one brought me closer to him.

How do you confront your best friend and husband?

The car finally stopped and I got out. Ethan was already waiting outside.

“Ethan…”

“Let’s go.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me behind him.

“Ethan, stop. We need to talk.” I tried to pull away from him.

“We can talk later, Mia,” he said, pulling me into a dimly lit room.

“I know about your affair with Eleanor,” I blurted out loudly.

“What did you just say?” He came to a stop, letting go of my hand.

“I…”

The sound of a glass shattering interrupted me and the lights in the room were suddenly turned on.

My gaze swept across the room. It was filled with familiar faces but one face stood out the most.

Eleanor.

She stood at the centre of the room with a flower bouquet in her hand, her expression a mix of hurt and confusion.

“Affair? Me? And him?” She asked, walking towards me.

“Mia, what the hell are you talking about?” Ethan asked, grabbing my shoulders.

“You think I'm sleeping with Ethan?” Eleanor asked, her voice laced with disappointment.

“Everyone, there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding. We are deeply sorry, but the night has to end here. I hope you all get home safely.” Ethan said, ushering the guests out of the room.

“You mean to tell me, all the sneaking around and lying I did to pull off this surprise friendship anniversary party was all for nothing?”

“Friendship anniversary?” I asked, looking between her and Ethan.

She shook her head in disbelief. “Mia, it's the 25th of September. It's our 20th friendship anniversary.”

She stared at me for a moment.

“I can't believe you would think so low of me, Mia. We are best friends, sisters even. Or at least, I thought we were.”

“Eleanor…”

“I need space, Mia. Happy anniversary to you.” She shoved the flower bouquet into my chest and walked off.

“Ethan I…”

“The driver would take you home,” He said, cutting me off.

He turned to walk away but I grabbed his hand.

“Ethan listen to me,” I pleaded.

“Listen to you, Mia?” he asked, pulling away from my grip. “Listen to you accuse me of having an affair with Eleanor?”

“I thought… there was the note, a photograph, and I saw both of you meeting up.”

“What note, Mia? What photograph? You followed me.”

“Ethan, I'm sorry.” I tried to grab his hand again, but he moved away.

“Go home, Mia. Get some sleep. I won't come home tonight,” he said, and grabbed my hand pulling me outside.

“Take her home,” he told the driver before he stormed off.

The ride home felt longer than it did when coming. The tears I tried so hard to hold back finally poured out.

Was I wrong about everything?

Did I really make a mistake?