Chapter 2: Safe

Seraphina didn't realize she was walking until the cold night air hit her face.

The music from the ballroom faded behind her.

The laughter.

The applause.

The voices.

They all disappeared.

Only one image remained.

Evan standing behind Lydia.

Moving her hair aside.

Fastening the necklace.

The necklace he had clasped around Seraphina's neck so many times over the years.

Her mother's necklace.

Her mother's last gift to her.

She stopped near the entrance and wrapped her arms around herself.

The night was cold.

Or maybe it was just her.

"Mrs. Wright?"

She looked up.

Their driver was already opening the rear door.

"Are you leaving already?"

She glanced back toward the hotel.

"No."

Not yet.

She wasn't ready to sit in that car beside Evan.

"I'm just getting some air."

"Of course."

The driver stepped back.

She stood there for another minute.

Then another.

Her breathing finally slowed.

Maybe...

Maybe there was an explanation.

Maybe Lydia had borrowed it.

Maybe Evan had taken it to be repaired.

Maybe—

No.

She closed her eyes.

She was making excuses again.

The same thing she had done for years.

Whenever he forgot dinner.

Whenever he cancelled plans.

Whenever he worked late.

Whenever he chose work over her.

There was always a reason.

Always an explanation.

Always another chance.

She opened her eyes.

Not tonight.

She turned and walked back inside.

*********”

The ballroom looked exactly the same.

People laughed, drinking champagne.

Someone was giving a speech.

It was strange.

Her marriage had just cracked open.

The world hadn't noticed.

She looked across the room.

Evan and Lydia were gone.

A strange feeling settled in her stomach.

She didn't know why.

She simply followed it.

She walked past the ballroom.

Past the auction hall.

Past the terrace.

Then she noticed a side corridor leading toward the private lounges.

It was quiet.

Almost empty.

She slowed her steps.

Voices.

Someone was talking.

She recognized one of them immediately.

Evan.

She stopped before the corner.

"I told you not to wear it tonight."

Lydia laughed.

"You said she wouldn't notice."

"She doesn't notice anything."

Seraphina felt her fingers curl into her palm.

Lydia lowered her voice.

"I still think it was risky."

"It wasn't."

"What if she asks?"

Evan laughed.

A soft, confident laugh.

"The necklace?"

"Yes."

"I'll tell her she misplaced it again."

Lydia laughed with him.

Seraphina felt something inside her break.

She remembered searching the apartment for that necklace three months ago.

Every drawer.

Every handbag.

Every jewelry box.

Evan had searched with her.

He had even checked under the bed.

She remembered thanking him.

Now she knew.

He had known where it was the whole time.

Lydia spoke again.

"I almost felt guilty."

"You shouldn't."

"What about your wife?"

A pause.

Then Evan sighed.

Not the sigh of a guilty man.

The sigh of a man tired of answering the same question.

"I married Seraphina because she was safe."

The words echoed through the corridor.

Lydia didn't speak.

Neither did Seraphina.

Evan continued.

"She doesn't argue."

"She doesn't question me."

"She doesn't make scenes."

He chuckled softly.

"She'll never leave."

Seraphina felt the air leave her lungs.

Eight years.

Eight years of trying to be patient.

Trying to understand.

Trying to keep the peace.

Trying to be the easy wife.

Trying to be enough.

He had noticed all of it.

Every sacrifice.

Every compromise.

Every time she swallowed her own feelings.

He hadn't loved her for it.

He had simply counted on it.

Lydia spoke quietly.

"You make her sound..."

"What?"

"...lonely."

Evan shrugged.

"She's comfortable."

"That's not the same thing."

"It doesn't matter."

His voice remained calm.

"A divorce would destroy too much."

"My reputation."

"The company."

The board would ask questions.

The investors would panic."

He laughed again.

"So no."

"I'm not getting divorced."

Lydia said nothing.

Neither did Seraphina.

She finally understood.

It had never been about love.

It had been convenience.

She wasn't his wife.

She was part of his carefully managed life.

Another asset.

Another possession.

Another thing he expected to remain exactly where he left it.

She looked down at her wedding ring.

Slowly...

She slipped it off.

It rested in her palm.

For the first time in eight years...

Her hand felt strangely light.

She closed her fingers around it.

Then she stepped backward.

Quietly.

Carefully.

Neither of them heard her leave.

**********

She walked straight past the ballroom.

Past the reception desk.

Past the photographers.

She didn't stop.

The driver hurried after her.

"Mrs. Wright?"

She opened the rear door herself.

"Take me somewhere."

"Home, ma'am?"

She looked back at the hotel.

Bright lights.

Beautiful smiles.

Perfect lies.

"No."

She got into the car.

"Just drive."

The driver hesitated.

"Where would you like to go?"

She stared through the window.

Then pulled out her phone.

There was only one person she wanted to speak to.

Margaret Collins.

Her lawyer.

The phone rang twice.

"Margaret speaking."

"It's Seraphina."

There was a brief pause.

"Is everything alright?"

"No."

Her own voice surprised her.

It sounded calm.

Too calm.

"I need a divorce."

Margaret didn't ask questions.

"When can you meet me?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"I'll clear my schedule."

"Thank you."

She ended the call.

The driver looked at her through the rearview mirror.

"Ma'am?"

She looked out at the city lights.

"Take me to the Grand Regent Hotel."

"The hotel?"

"Yes."

"I don't want to go home tonight."

The driver nodded.

"Of course."

The car pulled away from the curb.

Inside the ballroom...

Evan Wright was still smiling.

He had no idea his wife had just made the first decision that would change both of their lives forever.