thick with tension and unspoken ambition, the most important meeting of my career. I was Amelia Reed, and I was about to close th

Mr. Henderson, the CEO, leaned forward, a

ished, replaced by a live feed. My home. My home security syste

art s

ce. He wore a simple white tunic, the prayer beads I' d bought him from Nepal clutched in his hand. He looked sere

was not

face was turned away, but her presence was a violation, a shattering of the sacred image. The room, once buzzing wit

y heels clicking on the polished floor, and closed the feed with a single, deliberate motion. "My apologies for the

ured the contract. My mind, however, was already miles away. As soon as I was in

esidency in Switzerland," I told him, my

ecision was as swift and

in the meditation room. The woman was gone. He sat exactly as he had o

void of warmth, as it had been for years. Our marriage was a ghost,

ht of him, so calm and distant, made a familiar ache bloom in my c

he said, finally opening his eyes

spering to the gardener later, her voice carrying in the still evening air. "Mrs. Reed gave up her

for the illusion of peace he offered. I had believed his devo

oser. "Don't you remember what we pro

something unreadable in his eyes. "

llowed only once a month, on the first. Today was the 15th. It was

bout," I whispered, the hurt s

d, his voice dropping back into that cold, dismissiv

a long moment, the silence of the room pressing in on me. I looked at

. The Swiss residency application was in progress. I would give this marriage one last month. One last, desp