PART 1
“You’ll only embarrass me wearing that dress.”
I heard my husband say those words from the second floor while I stood frozen in front of the mirror, my hands icy cold.
Julian Cross had just stepped out of his black SUV at our mansion in Shaker Heights, looking flawless in his gray suit, as though he were on his way to accept an award instead of breaking my heart for the last time. Mrs. Martha, our longtime housekeeper, carefully asked if I would be coming downstairs.
He didn’t even bother looking toward my window.
“There’s no need. I’m going with Chloe tonight.”
I gripped the curtain until my nails dug into my palms.
I was wearing the only evening gown I still owned, a navy-blue dress I had bought before I married Julian. The sleeves were beginning to show wear. In three years, I had never asked him for money, never used my family name, never boasted about who my father was. I believed humility would make him love me. I believed that if I made myself smaller, he would finally see me.
How foolish I was.
A moment later, I heard heels clicking across the marble floor.
Chloe Miller appeared on my husband’s arm, wearing a champagne-colored gown and a diamond necklace that sparkled like a cruel joke. She leaned against him with a sweet, practiced smile.
“Do I look beautiful, Julian?”
He looked at her in a way he had never looked at me.
“You’re perfect.”
I walked downstairs slowly.
The moment Julian saw me, he frowned as though I were a stain on his expensive floor. Chloe looked me up and down, letting her eyes linger on the worn sleeves of my dress.
“Oh, so you’re the wife,” she laughed, covering her mouth. “Now I understand why he never takes you anywhere.”
Julian didn’t correct her.
His silence hurt more than a slap.
“The Apex Group annual gala is far too important,” Chloe continued. “There will be CEOs, politicians, international investors… real people. You should stay home, Clarissa. Looking like that, you’d only ruin Julian’s evening.”
I looked at my husband, waiting for a single word.
Just one.
Instead, he offered his arm to her.
“Let’s go. We’re running late.”
I watched them leave together.
The sound of the engine faded into the night.
Mrs. Martha approached me, her eyes full of sympathy.
“Ma’am… would you like me to make you something to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
I went upstairs, closed my bedroom door, and looked out toward Euclid Avenue, where the gala was taking place on the top floor of one of the city’s most luxurious hotels.
My phone buzzed.
It was a message from Chloe.
I had no idea how she had gotten my number.
She had sent me a photo from the back seat of Julian’s SUV. She was smiling, making a victory sign with her fingers. Julian’s profile was reflected in the window beside her.
Underneath the photo, she had written:
“Tonight he’ll be completely mine. Enjoy waiting for him.”
I quietly placed the phone on the table.
Then I opened the bottom drawer of my vanity and took out an old red velvet box.
Inside was a SIM card I hadn’t used in three years.
I inserted it into my phone.
There was only one contact saved.
Dad.
My finger trembled as I pressed Call.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
