The Price of a Perfect Marriage and the Silent Rebuild of My Worth
“Because of what happened upstairs,” I said.
I pointed a finger toward the ceiling of the garage, toward the lobby.
“The lobby has four security cameras,” I said.
“And there were at least six senior staff members standing near the reception desk.”
Lila’s mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.
“Arthur Vance does not tolerate public scandals,” I said.
“And the firm’s reputation is worth far more to him than Ethan’s career.”
I shifted the car into drive.
“Please step away from the vehicle, Lila.”
She did not move for a long second.
Then, slowly, she took two steps backward, her back pressing against the cold concrete pillar.
The folder remained in her hand, the pages fluttering slightly in the draft.
I rolled the window all the way up, sealing myself back into the quiet warmth of the car.
I let my foot off the brake.
The SUV rolled forward, past Lila, and down the ramp toward the street exit.
The afternoon traffic was heavy, but I merged smoothly into the lane.
My heart was beating in a slow, steady rhythm.
I did not feel victory.