Chapter 6: The Doorway

Warm yellow light spilled from the living room, stretching across the marble floor until it stopped just before my shoes.

I stood beneath the crystal chandelier without moving.

The silence inside the mansion felt strangely peaceful.

Then I looked inside.

Damien sat on the edge of the velvet sofa.

His white dress shirt had been discarded onto the armrest.

His chest was bare.

Colette knelt between his legs.

She wore nothing except black lace lingerie.

Her cheek rested lightly against his stomach while one of her hands traced the side of his waist.

Neither of them noticed me.

For several long seconds...

I simply watched.

No tears came.

No anger.

No jealousy.

Only exhaustion.

I slowly reached into my coat pocket.

The heavy ring of house keys felt cold against my fingers.

I placed them carefully onto the polished shoe cabinet beside the entrance.

Clack.

The sharp metallic sound echoed through the quiet house.

Colette jerked violently.

She scrambled backward, desperately pulling at the lace covering her body.

Her terrified eyes snapped toward the doorway.

"Madame..."

Damien turned more slowly.

The moment our eyes met...

Everything around us became painfully quiet.

"Vivian..."

His voice sounded rough.

Then his gaze drifted toward my cheek.

The fading red imprint of his hand remained clearly visible.

For a brief second...

Something inside his expression changed.

Guilt.

Maybe.

Regret.

Maybe.

I no longer cared enough to identify it.

Without answering him, I walked into the room.

Each step echoed across the hardwood floor.

Colette shrank farther against the sofa.

She refused to meet my eyes.

I stopped beside the glass coffee table.

Damien's phone rested near the edge.

I picked it up.

The screen recognized my fingerprint immediately.

Months ago he insisted I register it.

"What are you doing?" Damien asked.

I ignored him.

I unlocked the phone.

Opened the keypad.

Typed a number I knew by heart.

The line connected after two rings.

"Mr. Hayes speaking."

"Prepare the documents," I said calmly.

"Understood, Mrs. Ashford."

I ended the call.

Twelve seconds.

I placed the phone back onto the glass table.

It spun once before becoming still.

"Who was that?" Damien demanded.

"My lawyer."

The room fell silent again.

Only then did something else catch my attention.

Damien's leather briefcase lay open beside Colette.

Several documents had slipped onto the carpet.

One page rested on top.

I recognized the clinic logo immediately.

Dr. Farrow's Clinic.

Below it...

My name.

I didn't need to read another word.

Someone had searched my belongings.

Someone had copied my medical records.

Someone had handed them directly to my husband.

I looked at Colette.

She couldn't even raise her head.

I almost laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Because I finally understood.

She never wanted Damien.

She wanted my place.

And Damien had given her every opportunity.

"Vivian."

Damien stepped closer.

"Answer me."

"I already did."

"Why call your lawyer?"

"Because I no longer need a husband."

Colette inhaled sharply.

"Leave," Damien ordered without looking at her.

She hurried to gather her clothes.

Within seconds she disappeared into the hallway.

The house became quiet once more.

Damien rounded the coffee table until only inches separated us.

"You're serious."

"Yes."

"Because of what you saw?"

"No."

That answer surprised him.

"Then why?"

"Because yesterday you hit me."

"Vivian..."

"Yesterday you believed another woman's lies instead of your wife."

He remained silent.

"Yesterday you accused me of killing a child."

"I..."

"Yesterday was simply the day I finally stopped loving you."

His breathing became noticeably uneven.

"Nothing happened between me and Colette," he insisted.

"I don't care."

"She came in while I was changing after work."

"I don't care."

"You should."

"No, Damien."

I looked directly into his eyes.

"That privilege belonged to the woman who loved you."

"She doesn't exist anymore."

His fingers suddenly wrapped around my wrist.

"You're not leaving."

"Release me."

"No."

His grip tightened.

"Where were you last night?"

"Outside."

"With Elias?"

"That's no longer your concern."

"You're my wife."

"Only on paper."

"I paid for your brother's funeral."

"I never asked you to."

"I rescued your business before it collapsed."

"Then you locked me out of it."

His jaw tightened.

"I protected you."

"You imprisoned me."

"You disappeared with another man!"

"I disappeared because my husband slapped me."

The words hit harder than any scream could.

He looked away for a split second.

Then back at me.

"You're making a mistake."

"Maybe."

"But at least it will finally be my mistake."

I pulled my arm.

He caught it again.

His other hand slammed onto the glass table beside mine.

The loud impact echoed throughout the room.

Fragments of fear flashed across his face.

Not fear of losing me.

Fear of losing control.

"Think carefully," Damien whispered.

"Once you leave this house..."

"You leave with nothing."

I slowly smiled.

It wasn't a happy smile.

It wasn't bitter either.

It was simply peaceful.

"You're wrong," I answered quietly.

"For the first time in almost a year..."

"I'll finally be taking myself with me."