I watched Victoria not rush into Marks arms for comfort.
She waitedcold, measured, with the patience of a surgeon before a delicate operation.
Every move she made after that night was calculated.
She didnt crave revenge; she wanted freedom.
When Mark asked her to accompany him to the opening at the National Gallery, she realised the moment had finally arrived the past had to stay buried forever.
Peter lingered on the square outside the opera after the limousine with Victoria and the stranger disappeared. Lily, shivering in the chill, stood beside him, but he didnt hear her. His thoughts spun in slow disarraythe scene, the glances, the applause, her dress, the smile on that mans face. Hed lost control for the first time in his life.
That night I lay awake, staring at the ceiling while the clock ticked each second of my humiliation. At dawn I grabbed the phone and typed, We need to talk. No reply came, not that day nor the next.
On the third day I drove to the old house in Littlefordthe place we once called home. Victoria opened the door, barefaced, in a white blouse and jeans, her damp hair smelling of soap and fresh linen. Her expression was calm.
May I come in? I asked.
Of course, she said, flatly, but know that Im recording this.
I stopped short.
What what do you mean?
I mean that after years of lies a person learns to keep evidence.
I swallowed.
Emily, lets not turn this into a drama. I messed up, yes, but I never meant to hurt you.
You didnt mess up, Peter, she cut in evenly, you made a choice. Over and over again. Her voice was neutral, almost expressionless, yet the words sliced like a razor. She settled on the sofa and placed a thin leather folder before me.
These are the divorce papers. The house stays with me, as the deed states. You may keep the car, but the company shares you registered under my name remain mine.
I went pale.
Thats illegal! You have no right!
I do, she replied with quiet confidence. All the transfers went through my account. Legally Im the owner. Ive checked everything with a solicitor.
Which solicitor? I pressed.
Mark.
His name hit me like a blow.
So the architect. Your friend. Well, I guess youve found a substitute.
Emily smiled slowly.
No, Peter. Not a substitute. He simply listened. For the first time in years, someone actually heard me.
She stood, moved to the window and whispered, Do you know whats scarier than betrayal? Being alone in your own house, watching the person next to you and feeling youre no longer there.
I could not answer. My fists clenched, then relaxed.
What what will become of us? I muttered.
We dont exist any more. Sign the papers tomorrow. After that therell be no need for us to speak.
She handed me the folder and left the room. I sat alone, hearing the echo of her footsteps down the corridora sound that once formed the backdrop of my life, now a final farewell.
A month later the divorce was final. Lily quit the office without a goodbye. Colleagues began to look at me with that mixture of curiosity and pity. My world narrowed to work, dinner, the tellysilence. Each evening replayed the same hollow routine, a shell of the man I used to be.
One night, scrolling aimlessly through social media, I saw a photo. Emily, smiling confidently beside Mark at their new gallery. His hand rested on her shoulder, relaxed, natural. There was no pride in her eyes, only calm.
Thats when I understood: she hadnt punished me. I had destroyed myself with my own disregard.
Six months later Emily stood on the terrace of her new house on the outskirts of London. In the garden, their son Daniel played with friends. Mark came out with two glasses of wine.
Ready for tomorrows opening? he asked, smiling.
More than ever, she replied softly. For the first time in years I feel alive.
Mark looked at her, his eyes catching the sunset. Sometimes you have to let the old collapse before you can build something real.
Emily nodded. And not be afraid to start anew.
She gave a deep, genuine smile that came from her soul, not just her lips. No anger, no painjust peace.
The hardest battle in life isnt against others; its against yourself. Ive learned that the only victory worth having is the one you win over your own selfdestruction.
