Chapter Five Mrs. Brown

The company looked better than I remembered. Or maybe I had simply become too distant from it.

I sat in my car across the street for several seconds, staring through the windshield.

The glass building stood exactly where it had always been, its silver letters shining beneath the morning sun.

“Brown’s Enterprises.” I remembered when there had been no sign, no glass doors, no reception desk and no polished floors.

Just two cramped rooms, a broken air conditioner, and Ronan sitting across from me with a calculator in one hand and a pile of unpaid invoices in the other.

We had built this. At least, that's what I used to believe.

I picked up my handbag and stepped out of the car. The moment I walked through the entrance, I noticed how little anyone reacted to me.

A security guard glanced at me and returned his attention to his phone.

Two employees walked past without a second look.

I kept moving. The receptionist looked up when I approached the desk. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” I responded warmly.

“Do you have an appointment?” She asked, “ Who do you want to meet?”

I almost laughed. “Who do I want to meet?” I retorted, adjusting my bag.

She waited for my response. And I eventually replied, “I'd like to see Mr. Brown.”

She typed something into her computer.

“Mr. Brown is in a meeting.”

“I'll wait. I want to see him.” I crossed my arms.

She looked at me again. “Are you a client?”

“No. I am his family, I’m his wife.” Her fingers stopped above the keyboard.

For a moment, she simply stared at me.

Then her expression changed. “Oh.”

I frowned. “Is there a problem?”

“No, ma'am.” She quickly looked back at her screen. “I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

I forced a smile. “That's fine. Just tell him I am here to see him.”

She picked up the phone. “Mr. Brown's office, there's a woman here to see him.”

She listened for a few seconds. Then she hung up. “He's still in his meeting.”

“I'll wait.” She nodded. I moved toward one of the chairs.

As I sat down, I couldn't help noticing how unfamiliar everything felt. The employees looked different, the furniture was different.

Even the logo on the wall had changed. I had been away for years though not completely, of course.

Ronan always told me the business was doing well. He told me about new branches, new clients, new investments.

I celebrated every milestone with him.

But somewhere along the way, I had stopped asking questions.

I had become the wife who waited at home while her husband went to work. I looked toward the reception desk.

The receptionist was watching me. “What?” I asked.

She immediately looked away. “Nothing.”

I stood. “Actually, I have another question.”

“Yes?” She raised her head, waiting for my question.

“Who handles Mr. Brown's schedule?” I asked, eyes fixed on her.

“Our executive assistant.” She replied, avoiding my eyes.

“Can I speak to her?” I requested. “I also want to meet her.”

“She isn't available right now. Perhaps another time.”

I nodded. Then I noticed something on the desk, a small framed photograph. Ronan was standing beside a woman.

I couldn't see her face clearly, so I took one step closer. The receptionist quickly moved the frame.

I stared at her, “Why did you remove the frame?”

“Nothing. It seemed a bit inconvenient, so I removed it.” She turned back to her computer, typing calmly.

“Who is the woman?” I asked. “The woman in the frame. If you don't mind me asking?”

She hesitated. “I wouldn't know. It's not that important, ma.”

I studied her face. She hand a bit.

Before I could ask another question, the elevator doors opened.

Two employees stepped out, talking quietly. One of them glanced toward me.

Then whispered something to the other.

They both looked at me again. My chest tightened.

I turned back to the receptionist. “Is there someone else who regularly comes here looking for Ronan?”

Her face went white . “What do you mean?”

“A woman?” I continued. “Like a lady who comes to look for her.”

She said nothing. I waited for a response.

Finally, she lowered her voice. “Mrs. Brown comes here sometimes.”

My stomach dropped. I stared at her. “Mrs. Brown?”

“Yes,” She replied, glancing at me in a weird manner.

I almost smiled because the words sounded ridiculous. “I’m Mrs. Brown.”

The receptionist looked uncomfortable.

“I know. My apologies for the inconvenience.”

“Then who are you talking about?” I locked eyes with him.

She opened her mouth. But nothing came out.

I stepped closer. “Who?”

Before she could answer, a man passing behind the desk called out to her.

“Has Mr. Brown left?” She nodded.

“He just left with his wife.”

I froze. The man continued walking without noticing my expression.

I turned slowly toward the receptionist.

“His wife?”

She swallowed. “I—I meant…” she paused, unable to complete her sentence.

“You said he just left with his wife. You said that just now!”

“I may have misunderstood. My apologies ma.”

“No.” My voice came out quieter than I expected. “You didn't.”

Sweat was starting to form on the receptionist's forehead. I glanced toward the elevator.

The doors were already closed. My heart was beating so hard I could hear it.

Another woman was being called Ronan's wife. And apparently, everyone in this building knew about her except me.

I reached for my phone but I didn't call Ronan. I needed to know who she was.

I turned back toward the receptionist. And as I was about to ask her again, she turned towards the elevator.

Then to the corridor. And she called out, addressing a woman behind me. “Mrs. Brown, you're here.”