Chapter 2
At 8:12 that night, the restaurant manager called me.
"Mrs. Bennett, Mr. Bennett's guest has a hazelnut allergy. Would you like us to replace the chocolate hazelnut cake?"
I looked at the anniversary menu on the kitchen island.
Grant had not only moved our reservation. He was serving Vanessa the tenth-anniversary dinner I had designed for us.
"Who is paying the bill?"
"We still have your card on file."
I grabbed my coat and drove to the restaurant.
The hostess recognized me and assumed I was joining the dinner. She reached for a third place setting, then stopped when she realized no one was behind me.
Through the glass partition, I saw Grant and Vanessa sitting at the window table.
My table.
Ten days from now, the city's anniversary fireworks would rise beyond that window. Tonight, Vanessa sat in the chair chosen for me, with a personalized menu beside her hand.
The gold lettering was impossible to miss.
Grant and Natalie Bennett. Ten Years.
Vanessa's wrist rested across my name.
She had removed her pale coat and changed into a dark blue dress. Grant leaned toward her while she talked about the first date they had never gotten to finish.
When the server brought their appetizers, Vanessa lifted the wineglass engraved with the letter N.
She noticed the initial on its base.
She did not ask for another glass.
Grant noticed it too. He simply reached across the table and wiped a spot of sauce from the corner of her mouth.
I did not walk into the dining room.
Instead, I asked the manager to preserve both original menus and email the itemized bill to my private account. He hesitated before agreeing. The deposit and the rest of the meal were being charged to my credit card.
Before I left, I placed the spare menu bearing my name inside my purse.
Grant came home at 11:20.
He carried a small bag from a jewelry store. Its black ribbon had already been untied, and only a folded receipt remained inside.
"That restaurant is almost impossible to book," he said, dropping his keys into the entryway tray. "They had an opening tonight. It would have been a waste not to use it."
"So you canceled our tenth-anniversary dinner?"
"I'll book somewhere better for you."
He spoke as if he were replacing an ordinary meal, not an anniversary I had spent three months planning.
After Grant went upstairs to shower, I opened our joint bank account.
Jewelry store: $840.
Item: sapphire bracelet.
Hotel authorization: $2,400.
Location: Westbury Hotel Grand Ballroom.
Date: tomorrow.
The note attached to the charge read:
The Prom We Never Had.
I downloaded both transactions and the restaurant receipt, then forwarded them to an email account only I could access.
The sound of the shower covered the silence in our bedroom.
I gripped my wedding band and slowly pulled it from my finger. A pale circle remained underneath, as if my skin still remembered a promise that no longer existed.
It was the first time I had removed the ring in ten years.
I did not leave it where Grant could see it.
I locked it inside my personal document box with my passport, birth certificate, and my mother's will.
Then I called Nina Shaw.
Nina had been my closest friend in college. Now she handled high-asset divorces.
"I need a divorce consultation."
The other end of the line went quiet for two seconds.
"Does he know?"
"No."
"Come to my office tomorrow at three."
After ending the call, I began downloading a full year of statements from our joint account.
By the time Grant came out of the shower, my laptop was closed. He did not notice my bare ring finger.
He only asked whether his suit had come back from the dry cleaner.
At midnight, the family tablet lit up in the living room.
It was synced to Grant's phone. Two messages from Vanessa appeared in full on the lock screen.
Thank you for letting me sit in her place.
A second message followed.
Tomorrow, I'll finally get the prom you promised me.