Chapter 4
That night, Riverpoint Health's international press conference went on as scheduled.
The livestream blew past a million viewers online.
Vivian was right there in the brand director's chair.
She wore a sharp suit, holding the script I'd written, and delivered my lines on stage like she owned the place.
But she barely got through the third page before the overseas reporters stumped her with their questions.
When it came to partnership terms, clinical data, or market strategy, she didn't have a clue about any of it.
People in the audience started murmuring among themselves.
The livestream comments were more brutal.
[Isn't that Mr. Reed's first crush? Why is her business game so weak?]
[So Tanya was the one holding it all together at those press conferences?]
[LOL, the eye candy finally made it on stage.]
I had the livestream going, slowly slicing an apple into little pieces, taking my time.
Charles was beside me, cracking up. "Feels good, huh?"
"It's alright." Right as I finished, Andrew popped up on screen.
He stood up, grabbed the mic, and in three sentences, connected all the dots, smoothed over all of Vivian's mistakes, and saved the whole event.
The live chat lit up instantly.
[Mr. Reed is such a boss, coming to the rescue.]
[He looks exhausted, though.]
I kept the livestream running.
Because I saw Andrew, as he wrapped up, instinctively glance over at the brand director's seat.
That seat was empty.
I used to sit there at every press conference.
For maybe the first time ever, he really felt the emptiness of me not being there.
Less than thirty minutes after the press conference wrapped up, Andrew was downstairs at Charles's place.
Charles went down to try and keep him out, but after ten minutes, he came back up and asked, "You want to see him?"
"Let him in," I said.
I opened the door, and Andrew was standing there, still in that dark gray suit from the press conference, exhaustion written all over his face and in his eyes.
The first thing out of his mouth was, "So, you two are living together now?"
Charles leaned against the dining table and smirked. "Mr. Reed, shouldn't you be worried about something else right now?"
Andrew didn't look at him, stared straight at me.
I crossed my arms. "So, Mr. Reed, you showed up at my door in the middle of the night. Are you here to pick a fight, or to sign the divorce papers?"
He set a document down on the table.
It was my resignation documents.
They'd already been signed off.
I glanced at them and said nothing.
"The trending topic's been taken down, and the marketing account has been served with a legal notice," Andrew said, pausing. "As for Vivian, I'll have her make a public statement to clear things up."
"And then what?" I pressed.
"Then you come home," he said.
I almost burst out laughing. "Andrew, do you really think I'll drop everything and come back whenever you call?"
"That's our home," he said.
"That's not my home." I looked him in the eye, correcting him slowly, making sure he heard every word. "It's a crash pad for you and your first crush. Not my home."
His jaw tightened. "There's nothing between her and me."
"Does it matter?" I shot back, "Whether you two have something going on or not, that's a separate issue from whether I leave you."
"There's a difference," he insisted.
"No, there isn't." My voice was steady. "Marriage isn't about waiting for you to actually cheat before I leave. The day you brought her into our home, that was already enough."
He stared at me for a long moment before finally saying, "Are you really going to ruin three years because of her?"
I let out a cold laugh. "Was I the one who wrecked everything?"
That line landed like a slap. Andrew had nothing to say.
Charles slid the divorce papers across the table right on cue. "Mr. Reed, if you need help with the big words, I can read them out for you."
Andrew didn't look at him, his voice icy. "Get out."
"On what grounds?" Charles shot back.
"Because she's still my wife," Andrew said.
"Not for much longer." I looked him straight in the eye and said, "Andrew, sign it. Don't make this uglier than it needs to be."
He stared at the divorce papers, the veins on his hand popping out, but he didn't make a move. "I'm not signing."
"Alright." I nodded. "Then I'll see you in court."
With that, I turned and headed back to my room.
Before I closed the door, I heard Charles drawl from the hallway, his tone slow and dripping with sarcasm. "Mr. Reed, too late. This time, your wife's really done with you."
*****
After that night, I walked away for good from the Reed family and Riverpoint Health.
I didn't go back to Silverlake Estates, and I stopped picking up any of Andrew's calls.
I boxed up everything from my marriage, donated what I could, sold the rest, and kept a white porcelain mug and my mom's design notebook.
Charles got in touch with a few clients I'd worked with before.
I hung the Lane Studio sign back up.
But this time, I was done with wedding planning.
Now, I was running brand events and high-end launches.
Making brides happy was never really my thing.
What I was good at was turning a train wreck into a win.
When I reopened the studio, plenty of familiar faces dropped by.
Someone quietly asked, "Did Mr. Reed really agree to the divorce?"
I smiled, "I don't need his permission to run my own business."
But on the fifth day, trouble came knocking.
At ten in the morning, two legal reps from Riverpoint Health showed up at my studio with a cease-and-desist letter.
They demanded I hand over every business template and client contact I'd used at Riverpoint Health during my marriage and warned me not to compete with them.
I read the letter and laughed, "Who sent you?"
They answered straight-faced, "Mr. Reed's orders."
I nodded, snapped a photo of the letter, and sent it to Andrew. "Wow, impressive."
He called back right away. "It wasn't me."
"Then who was it?" I demanded.
He said, his voice low, "I'll send them back right now."
"It's too late." I paused the recorder on my desk, my voice flat. "Mr. Reed, I'm sending this letter right back to you, exactly as it came."
"Tanya, trust me this once."
"I've trusted you way too many times already."
With that, I hung up.
*****
That afternoon, I blasted Riverpoint Health all over the trending topics, calling them out for maliciously trying to crush a former employee's new business.
I had all the evidence, and the recording was crystal clear.
The narrative flipped in an instant.
The comments section was full of people dragging the Reed family for being so petty and greedy.
Less than an hour later, the legal director at Riverpoint Health had to come out and apologize, saying the cease-and-desist was sent by someone acting on their own, totally overstepping.
It turned out that someone was actually one of Margaret's people she'd slipped into the legal department.
*****
That night, Andrew came to my studio in person.
It was raining outside when he walked in.
The studio was dim, two lights on, and I was sorting out the layout maps.
He stood at the entrance, rain soaking his suit shoulders, eyes fixed on the new Lane Studio logo on my desk for a long time.
"You used to say you wanted to revive your mom's label," he said.
I didn't look up. "So?"
"You did well."
"Thanks for the praise, Mr. Reed."
He was silent for a moment, then walked over and placed the lawsuit withdrawal papers beside me.
"Riverpoint Health won't give you any more trouble. I've already taken care of the legal team," Andrew said.
I didn't look at the papers. "Who are you doing all this for?"
"For you," he replied.