002

~Evelyn

"The regional campaign projections are on page four, Mr. Montgomery," I said, my voice remarkably steady despite the chaotic hammering of my heart against my ribs.

I stepped closer to the edge of the desk, handing him the thick leather bound folder.

He didn't just take the file. His long, calloused fingers brushed directly against mine as he pulled the folder away, sending a sudden, electric jolt straight up my arm.

"Impressive," he murmured.

He glanced down at the metrics, then back up at my face, his eyes lingering on my lips before slowly trailing down the curve of my neck to my wide hips. "This shows you clearly understand the market, you're a genius I must say."

"Thank you, sir," I managed to say, feeling a flush of warmth spread across my chest. It had been years since a man had looked at me with genuine appreciation, let alone the most powerful man in the city.

He leaned in slightly, "Keep up this quality of work, Evelyn. I’ll be keeping a very close eye on you."

By the time he moved on to inspect the next department, my knees were practically shaking.

I was confused throughout the whole day thinking of him, and why Julian didn't tell me he's coming. “Maybe even Julian doesn't know,” I convinced myself with a lie I know has no possibility to be true.

Almost three hours later of rumbling and working without actually working, the sharp buzz of my phone pulled me back to reality. It was Nadia calling to drag me out for our usual lunch break across the street.

_________

_________

"I did it again," I whispered the moment we slid into a quiet booth at the back of the bistro.

I stared down at my glass of iced tea, nervously swirling the straw around. "Last night. I... I masturbated again."

Nadia let out a sharp, dramatic sigh, throwing her hands up in utter disbelief.

"Evelyn, stop!" she hissed, shunning me with a fierce look in her eyes. "Stop complaining to me about your dried up sex life when I’ve already given you a perfectly good way out! But no, you completely refuse to take it!"

"Nadia, please you know I can't…"

"No, listen to yourself!" she snapped softly, leaning across the table, her voice dripping with raw frustration on my behalf. "How can you be so damn foolish? Why are you being loyal to a husband who looks at you like you're invisible? A man who acts like touching you is a taboo? For god's sake, Evelyn, you don't even know if Julian is out there fucking someone else as we speak!"

Her words hit me like a splash of ice water, stinging deep into my chest. But almost instantly, my defensive walls flew back up.

I did what I had done for the last two agonizing years like a complete fool, I started making excuses for him.

"Julian is a lot of things, Nadia, but he would never cheat on me!" I blurted out, my voice cracking with sudden emotion as heat gathered behind my eyes.

"He might be a bully sometimes, and he might be distant, but he will never, ever step outside our marriage. Never!" Nadia just stared at me, her expression a mix of pity and exasperation.

"And besides..." I swallowed hard around the massive lump in my throat, blinking back my tears. "I'm already working on my weight. I started a new routine this week. Once I shed these big pounds and go back to my normal size, everything will go back to how it was. I'll get my husband back again. You'll see."

I quickly glanced down at my watch and gasped, sliding out of the booth. "Oh God, look at the time. It's almost time for him to return home from his half-day shift. I have to get home right now and make dinner for him."

Nadia threw her head back and let out a bitter, mocking laugh. "A dinner you're not even sure he'll eat? A dinner he'll probably look at with disgust before walking straight into his bedroom?"

I paused, clutching my handbag tightly against my stomach as her words cut straight to the bone.

"Just... turn a blind eye, Nadia," I begged softly, my voice trembling as I looked down at my best friend. "Please. Just pray for me that he changes."

Without waiting for her reply, I turned around and hurried out of the restaurant, desperately clinging to the fragile illusion that my marriage was still worth saving.

I rushed through the front door of our apartment, dropping my bag onto the entryway table and tying an apron around my waist within seconds.

For the next two hours, the kitchen was a whirlwind of activity. I threw myself into preparing his favorite meal, marinated sirloin, roasted garlic mash, and glazed vegetables.

I chopped, seasoned, and cooked with a desperate, hopeful energy, convincing myself that a hot, home cooked dinner might make him talk to me.

By seven o'clock, the dining table was set to perfection. Two candles were lit, the wine was poured, and the food sat warm under glass covers. Then came the waiting.

I sat at the head of the table, staring at the clock on the wall. The second hand ticked past slowly, echoing in the quiet room.

7:30 PM.

8:15 PM.

8:45 PM.

By 9:00 PM, the candles had burned down to stubby nubs of wax, and the food on the plates had gone completely cold.

My stomach twisted into a tight, anxious knot. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Julian’s number.

It rang until it went to voicemail. I called again. No answer.

On the fifth attempt, just as I was about to give up and let out a sob of frustration, the line finally picked up with a sharp click.

"What is it, Evelyn?" Julian's voice came through the speaker, crisp, annoyed, and completely devoid of warmth. I could hear background chatter and the faint clinking of glasses hummed behind his tone.

"Julian... hi," I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I’ve been waiting for you. I made dinner. It’s past nine, and I thought maybe we could eat together tonight..." A heavy, impatient sigh sounded on the other end.

"Don't wait up for me," he cut in smoothly, not a trace of remorse in his voice. "I won't be coming home tonight. I have an impromptu late-night strategy meeting to attend, and it's going to run into the early morning."

My chest tightened until it felt hard to breathe, Nadia's harsh warnings from lunch echoing loudly in the back of my head. But I forced my voice to stay sweet and obedient, holding on to my foolish loyalty like a lifeline.

"Oh... I see," I murmured softly, letting out a small, defeated sigh. "Alright then. Good luck with the meeting, Julian. I wish you success, as usual."

"Yeah. Bye," he muttered, and the call went dead before I could even say goodnight.

I lowered the phone from my ear and stared down at the cold, ruined dinner sitting in front of me. Whatever appetite I had left completely evaporated, replaced by a deep, hollow nausea that settled right in the pit of my stomach.

I blew out the dying candles, left the plates untouched on the table, and walked back into our cold, empty bedroom alone.