Chapter 3 - The Cold Return
Thursday morning arrived with a thin,
gray drizzle that matched the state of my heart.
I spent the morning at the salon,
getting my hair done and my nails painted a deep,
lethal red.
I wanted to look perfect when the devil walked through the door.
At 4:00 PM,
I heard his key in the lock.
I stood in the kitchen,
stirring a pot of pasta sauce,
the steam rising around me like a veil.
"Emma?
I’m home!"
he called out,
his voice booming with a fake enthusiasm that made me nauseous.
He walked into the kitchen,
carrying a leather bag and a small duty-free bag.
He looked tan,
relaxed,
and entirely satisfied with himself.
"Hey,
beautiful,"
he said,
leaning in to kiss my cheek.
I didn't flinch,
though every nerve in my body screamed in protest.
"Welcome home,
Daniel,"
I said,
my voice as smooth as glass,
"How was Singapore?"
"Long,"
he sighed,
dropping his bag on the counter,
"The jet lag is going to kill me."
"But look,"
"I got you something from the airport."
He pulled out a small box,
an Hermes scarf inside,
the exact color of the peonies I had thrown away.
"It’s beautiful,"
I lied,
fingering the silk,
"You shouldn't have."
"Nothing is too good for my girl,"
he said,
wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.
I looked at his hands,
the same hands that had been on Vanessa’s back three days ago.
"I have a surprise for you,
too,"
I said,
stepping out of his embrace to check the oven.
"My father called."
"The merger meeting has been moved up to tomorrow morning."
Daniel’s eyes lit up,
a flash of greed crossing his face before he could hide it.
"Tomorrow?
That’s great news,
Emma."
"The sooner we get that settled,"
"the sooner we can take that vacation we talked about."
"Just the two of us,"
he added,
flashing that crooked smile.
"I was thinking the same thing,"
I replied,
handing him a glass of wine.
"A long trip,"
"somewhere very far away."
We sat through dinner,
a grotesque performance of domestic bliss.
He told me stories about Singaporean food he hadn't eaten,
and meetings he hadn't attended.
I listened,
nodding at the right times,
amazed at how easily the lies spilled from his lips.
He was so confident in my stupidity.
He thought he had married a woman who was too soft to see the truth.
After dinner,
he went to his office to "check some last-minute emails."
I knew he was calling Vanessa.
I went into the living room and picked up my phone.
Lydia had sent the final documents.
Not the merger documents,
but the ones that would serve as his execution.
I looked at the screen,
seeing the legal language that would strip him of his board seat,
his equity,
and his freedom.
"Everything is ready for tomorrow,"
Lydia texted.
"Is he suspicious?"
"He thinks he’s a genius,"
I typed back.
I went to bed and pretended to sleep,
listening to the sound of him typing in the other room.
The man I had loved was a ghost,
and the man in the office was a stranger I was about to destroy.
Tomorrow,
the mask would come off.
May you like
Tomorrow,
the airport kiss would cost him everything.
