I bought a midnight blue silk dress for the gala, imagining a quiet conversation after the awards. I never imagined I would be standing in a hallway holding his phone after hearing him laugh about my ignorance.
I drove home through the city traffic and realized that the purpose of the evening had changed. I put on my diamond earrings and prepared for the gala with a sense of cold efficiency.
My attorney called to ask which version of the disclosure packet I wanted him to finalize. “The amended one,” I told him, knowing that the marriage was now a legal matter rather than a romantic one.
The gala was held in the atrium of the very building Simon had designed on my land. The room smelled of expensive perfume and champagne, and light washed the crowd in gold from the glass ceiling.
Simon found me near the entrance and kissed my cheek while telling me I looked beautiful. He smelled like his usual cologne and a faint floral scent that did not belong to our home.
“Big night,” he said with a wide, youthful grin. It was hard to see him so happy in a life I had built for him, knowing that his betrayal had already ended our history.
We sat at a table with his mother and his partner, Arthur. At the adjacent table sat several employees from the firm, including the woman from the conference room.
Her name was Bridgette Vance, a project manager I recognized from old company newsletters. She was composed and professional, and she spent the evening looking everywhere except at me.
Beatrice reached for my hand and told the table how lovely it was that Simon had such a stable home life. I smiled and replied that it must be a great relief for the men, which made Arthur chuckle.
I ate my dinner with perfect manners, feeling my body become insultingly efficient at performing social rituals. Inside, something had stopped pleading for Simon’s love.
When the awards began, the council chair praised Simon for redefining regional architecture. Simon stood up and walked to the stage looking like the man I had once intended to grow old with.
He thanked his team and his mother, and then he looked directly at me. “And to my wife, Diana,” he said warmly, “who has believed in me more than I deserved.”
The room laughed affectionately, and I smiled back at him with steady eyes. I knew he was right about one thing: I had certainly given him more than he deserved.