Chapter 3
I knew he thought I was being unreasonable.
Like he always believed every woman would cave in eventually.
At ten in the morning, Micharel's mother, Irene Landon, called.
"Anna, the family dinner's at Riverside Manor tonight. You and Michael should come together. Claire will be there too, so you two can meet. You're all important to Michael, so don't be awkward with each other," she said.
I gripped my phone. "Irene, Michael and I are talking about getting a divorce."
There was a brief silence on the other end.
Irene's voice turned a shade colder.
"It's New Year's. Don't say unlucky things. Claire is Michael's childhood friend's sister. After her parents died, she stayed with the Landons. She's finally back after years away. What's wrong with Michael helping her?" Irene said.
"He's been looking after her for thirteen years," I said.
"Anna," Irene's tone lost all warmth. "When you married Michael, no one in our family stopped you. You know exactly who cleaned up your father's mess. Now Claire's back, and you're stirring up trouble about divorce."
I didn't say anything.
Irene sighed. "Seven o'clock tonight. Dress nicely. Michael's reputation is your reputation."
She hung up.
I sat at the dining table, staring at the divorce agreement, the indentation from his car keys still pressed into the paper.
Outside, people were setting off New Year's fireworks.
Shreds of red paper covered the ground.
*****
At 6:30 PM, I ended up going to Riverside Manor anyway.
It wasn't because of anything Irene said.
It was because Michael's assistant sent me a message.
[Mrs Landon, Mr. Landon has a family dinner at Riverside Manor tonight, but he asked me to book a private room for you elsewhere and say you weren't feeling well, so you wouldn't be attending. Should I come pick you up, or...]
I looked at the message and smiled.
So Michael had already made an excuse for me.
I texted back: [No need. I'll go myself.]
The private room at Riverside Manor was on the third floor. As soon as I pushed the door open, the whole room went quiet.
Michael was seated to the left of Irene, who occupied the head of the table.
On Irene's right was a woman in a red cashmere dress.
She was the exact same woman I'd seen in last night's photo.
She was even more stunning in person than in the picture.
Her long hair flowed over her shoulders, and when she smiled, the corners of her eyes lifted a bit, she looked like an orchid someone pampered every day.
As soon as she saw me, she was the first to stand up.
"Anna, you're here. Come on, sit down. Let me get the waiter to bring over another chair for you," she said.
Her voice was sweet and clear, like honey straight from the jar.
Michael glanced at me, his brow furrowing ever so slightly.
"What are you doing here?" Michael asked, sounding surprised.
"Just here for dinner," I said, keeping it casual.
Irene gave a slight nod and said, "Sit down."
The waiter brought over a chair and placed it right by the entrance.
It was the farthest spot from the head of the table, practically next to where the dishes came out.
The breeze from the doorway hit the back of my neck.
I sat down.