Chapter 4: The Man Evan Feared

The elevator doors closed.

Seraphina stood inside with her suitcase beside her.

For the first time in years...

She wasn't going back.

She watched the numbers count down until the doors opened into the lobby.

The doorman hurried over.

"Mrs. Wright, would you like me to call your driver?"

"No."

She smiled politely.

"I'll get a cab."

"As you wish."

Outside, the morning air was cool.

She stood on the pavement, unsure where to go.

Diana had offered her guest room.

Margaret had offered to arrange somewhere more private.

Neither option felt real yet.

Her phone rang.

Diana.

"Where are you?"

"Outside the apartment."

"I'm coming."

"You don't have to."

"I'm already on my way."

The line went dead.

Seraphina smiled despite herself.

That was Diana.

She never asked twice.

********

An hour later they were sitting in Diana's living room.

A cup of tea rested untouched in Seraphina's hands.

Diana studied her carefully.

"You've lost weight."

"I've lost a husband."

"I wasn't talking about him."

Seraphina smiled faintly.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Diana reached across the table.

"I need to tell you something."

Seraphina looked up.

"What?"

"I should've told you months ago."

"Diana..."

"I know."

She looked genuinely ashamed.

"I kept convincing myself I was imagining things."

Seraphina stayed quiet.

"The Morrison Foundation dinner."

"Eight months ago."

"I saw Evan."

Her voice became softer.

"He wasn't alone."

Seraphina's fingers tightened around the mug.

"He was with Lydia."

She nodded slowly.

"I figured."

"No."

Diana shook her head.

"You don't understand."

"I didn't just see them talking."

The room became silent.

"I saw him kiss her."

Seraphina closed her eyes.

Not because she was surprised.

Because hearing someone else confirm it somehow made it real.

"I wanted to tell you."

Diana's voice trembled.

"I swear I did."

"So why didn't you?"

"I thought..."

She swallowed.

"I thought maybe you already knew."

Seraphina opened her eyes.

"I didn't."

"I know."

"And if I had told you..."

"You would've denied it."

Seraphina looked away.

She probably would have.

Diana reached into her handbag.

"I've hated myself for this."

She placed an envelope on the coffee table.

Seraphina frowned.

"What is it?"

"I took those pictures."

"You... what?"

"I don't know why."

"I think something felt wrong."

Seraphina slowly opened the envelope.

Inside were photographs.

Evan.

Lydia.

Walking together.

Laughing.

Holding hands.

One photograph showed Evan opening a car door for Lydia.

Another showed him touching her face.

The last photograph made Seraphina stop breathing.

Evan was kissing Lydia.

She quietly returned the photographs to the envelope.

"I don't need these."

"I know."

Diana whispered.

"But I think you deserve to know the truth."

Seraphina nodded.

"The truth doesn't hurt anymore."

She surprised herself by saying it.

Because it was true.

The pain had already happened.

This...

This was simply confirmation.

*********

That afternoon Margaret Collins called.

"I've served the papers."

Seraphina looked out Diana's kitchen window.

"How did he react?"

"He refused to accept them."

"Can he do that?"

Margaret laughed softly.

"No."

"I expected as much."

"So they're official?"

"Very."

Margaret paused.

"There is something else."

"What?"

"Evan isn't only dealing with a divorce today."

Seraphina frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't discuss details over the phone."

"When can we meet?"

"This afternoon."

**********

Margaret's office overlooked the city.

Books lined every wall.

Legal files covered the desk.

Seraphina sat opposite her.

Margaret slid another folder across the desk.

"This isn't about the divorce."

Seraphina looked at it.

"What is it?"

"Your husband."

She opened the file.

Financial reports.

Company documents.

Court records.

She frowned.

"I don't understand."

"You remember Julian Cross?"

The name sounded familiar.

"Evan's former business partner?"

Margaret nodded.

"They built Wright Capital together."

"I know they fell out."

"They didn't simply fall out."

Margaret leaned back.

"Evan destroyed him."

Seraphina looked up.

"What happened?"

"Julian trusted Evan."

"They were practically brothers."

"They built the company together."

"Then one day..."

Margaret tapped the file.

"...millions disappeared."

"Evan blamed Julian. The board believed him. The banks believed him. The media believed him. And Julian lost everything."

Seraphina stared at the papers.

"I never knew any of this."

"You weren't supposed to."

Margaret folded her hands.

"Evan buried the story."

"So Julian was innocent?" She asked

Margaret didn't answer immediately.

"That's what I've always believed."

The office became quiet.

Then Margaret spoke again.

"There's another reason I'm telling you this."

"What is it?"

She reached into her drawer.

Pulled out a simple black business card.

Placed it on the desk.

Julian Cross

Cross Holdings.

Seraphina looked at it.

"Why are you giving me this?"

Margaret smiled.

"Because yesterday, less than an hour after I filed your divorce..."

"...he called me."

Seraphina blinked.

"He called you?"

"Yes."

"What did he want?"

Margaret looked directly at her.

"He asked one question."

"What question?"

She smiled slightly.

"'Has Seraphina finally left him?'"

Silence.

Seraphina slowly picked up the card.

"How would he even know?"

Margaret stood and walked toward the window.

"Because unlike Evan..."

"...Julian has been waiting for this day for years."

Seraphina looked down at the name again.

A strange feeling settled inside her.

Curiosity.

Confusion.

Questions.

"Should I call him?"

Margaret turned back.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because if I know Julian..."

A faint smile crossed her face.

"...he's already on his way here."

A knock sounded on the office door.

Margaret glanced toward it.

"Come in."

The door opened.

Her assistant stepped inside.

"Ms. Collins..."

She looked between the two women.

"Mr. Julian Cross is here."

Seraphina slowly turned toward the doorway.

The man standing there wasn't looking at Margaret.

He was looking directly at her.

Like he'd been expecting this meeting long before she ever had.