CHAPTER 7%
Alexander stood there–alone–staring at the divorce papers in his hands.
The torn pieces scattered around his feet like snow, but the words still burned in his mind. This marriage is irretrievably broken. My handwriting My signature. My final goodbye.
No one knew how long he stood frozen in that empty ballroom. The hotel manager and cleaning staff had long since given up waiting for him to leave R
His phone buzzed against his chest. Victoria’s name flashed on the screen, but he didn’t answer. It buzzed again. And again.”
Finally, he pulled it out and read her messages:N
Your father is stable. The doctors say it was stress–induced. Where are you?]
Alexander, please answer me. I’m scared.]
[The reporters are here. They’re asking about Lauren. What should I tell them?]
He turned the phone face down and let it fall silent.
“Sir?” A voice broke through his thoughts.
Alexander looked up to see his driver standing in the doorway, car keys in hand.
“Should we head home, sir?” the driver asked carefully.N
Home The word felt strange in Alexander’s mouth. Where was home now? The penthouse where Victoria slept in our bed? The office where he built his empire? Or somewhere else entirely?N
Without a word, Alexander walked toward the exit. The driver followed, maintaining the respectful distance he’d perfected over the years.
They rode in silence for several minutes before the driver cleared his throat.M
“Mr. Blackwood… should we go straight to the penthouse, or…” He hesitated, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Perhaps you’d like to check on Mrs. Victoria first? She’s been at the hospital all evening.“N
Alexander’s jaw tightened. “Drive.“N
“Where to, sir?“N
“Just drive.”
The city lights blurred past the windows as they moved through empty streets. It was past midnight now, and most of the world was asleep. But sleep felt impossible to Alexander. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw those medical reports. Severe internal bleeding. Previous untreated injuries.N
“Sir,” the driver said quietly, “if I may…“N
“You may not.“W
But the older man continued anyway. “I’ve been driving for your family for fifteen years. I’ve seen a lot of things.”
Alexander’s fingers drummed against the leather seat. “Get to the point.“N
“Mrs. Lauren… she wasn’t always so quiet, you know.“N
“When you first married, she used to hum in the backseat. Little songs under her breath, like she couldn’t contain her happiness. She’d point out things through the window–a dog playing in the park, a couple holding hands, children laughing. She saw joy everywhere.“}} Alexander stared straight ahead, but the driver could see his reflection in the window.
“She learned your coffee order by heart–not just the brand, but the exact temperature, the specific cup you preferred. She’d wake up thirty minutes early just to make it perfect. And when you started working late, she’d wait up with dinner, even if it meant eating alone at midnight.”
The car slowed as they approached a red light.
‘She stopped humming about two years ago,” the driver continued. “Started staring out the window instead of talking. And in the last six months… she barely spoke at all. Just ‘thank you‘ and ‘please take me home.“N
“But the saddest part,” he said, his voice growing softer, “was watching her shrink. She used to fill the whole back seat with her presence. By the end, she took up so little space I sometimes forgot she was there.” Alexander’s phone buzzed again. This time it was his business partner. [The photos are already online. We need damage control. Call me.] He deleted the message without reading the rest.N
“There was this one day,” the driver said, “about a month ago. She got in the car after another one of those lunches with Mrs. Victoria. She was crying–not the loud kind, just tears rolling down her face. I asked if she wanted to talk, but she just said, ‘He used to love me once. I think he really did.”
The light turned green, but the driver didn’t move immediately.
“She never asked for much, sir. Just… to be seen. To matter.“N
Alexander’s voice was barely a whisper. “Where is she now?”
“I don’t know, sir. But I don’t think she’s coming back.”
The words hit Alexander like a physical blow. For six years, he’d controlled every aspect of my life. Where I went, who I saw, what I wore. He’d never considered that I might simply… disappear.
The Wilson estate,‘ he said suddenly.!!
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8:26 PM
“The Wilson estate,” he said suddenly.
The driver nodded and changed direction. “Of course, sir.”}
Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to the gates of my childhood home. The mansion sat on five acres of perfectly manicured grounds, a monument to old money and older traditions. My parents had left it to me when they died, but Alexander had made sure I could never sell it. It was supposed to be his insurance policy–a place he knew I’d eventually return to.”
But the house was dark.
Completely still.
Not a single light flickered in any window. The security system’s red light blinked steadily, indicating no movement inside.
“Should I call the caretaker, sir?” the driver asked.
“No.” Alexander rolled down the window. “Wait here.”
The night air was cold against his face as he lit his first cigarette in three years. He’d quit when Victoria got pregnant, determined to be the kind of father his own had never been. But tonight, old habits felt like the only comfort available.
One cigarette became two. Then five. Then a whole pack.
He smoked until his throat was raw, his voice hoarse from the cold air, but the lights inside the mansion never came on.}
Dawn was breaking over the horizon when the driver finally spoke again.”
“Sir… sh eally gone, isn’t she?”
Alexander took one last drag of his cigarette and flicked it toward the gate.”
The papers in his pocket–the copies I’d had delivered–were evidence of a truth he’d been too blind to see. I hadn’t just left him.§
I had planned my escape so carefully that he’d never even seen it coming.
And now, sitting outside the empty house where I’d grown up, Alexander finally understood what his driver had been trying to tell him.
He had lost more than a wife.\
He had lost the only person who had ever truly loved him.”
But the cruelest part wasn’t the divorce papers or the medical reports or even his father’s collapse.
The cruelest part was the silence.§
For the first time in six years, I wasn’t answering his calls.
CHAPTER 7
