Chapter 4
Morning sunlight flooded the room, harsh and bright, when she woke up.
Opening her eyes to the young man sleeping beside her, Eleanor felt no rush of guilt, only a strange, quiet sense of release.
Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed quietly, she slipped her scattered clothes back on one by one.
On the nightstand, Lucas' phone screen lit up with unread messages, the sender labeled simply "Dad".
She glanced away immediately, not daring to pry into his private life.
Stepping out of the hotel, Eleanor paused on the sidewalk for a moment. The March morning air still held a chill, and she pulled her coat tighter around herself, exhaling a wisp of white breath.
Just then, her phone vibrated in her pocket.
It was a message from Ryan: [Had a late business dinner last night, so I stayed near the office.]
Eleanor stared at the words for several seconds, then locked her phone and slipped it back into her bag without replying.
Life slipped back into its familiar routine in the days that followed.
Eleanor still rose early to prepare Ryan's breakfast each morning, still stayed alone in the oversized apartment most days, and still greeted him with a soft smile to ask about his day whenever he came home.
She locked that secret deep inside her, burying it away where no one could ever find it.
Yet something felt subtly different now.
She found herself noticing tiny details about Ryan she'd once chosen to ignore: faint lipstick marks on his collar, who sat pinned to the top of his message list when his phone lit up, the sudden softness in his tone when he took certain calls.
She'd avoided looking before. Now she couldn't help but watch, and every new observation only chilled her heart further.
*****
Ryan stayed home for dinner on a rare weekend evening. Eleanor cooked a full spread of four dishes and soup, all his favorite meals.
They sat at opposite ends of the dining table, a wide empty space stretching between them.
"Eleanor," Ryan spoke up suddenly.
She lifted her gaze to meet his.
"The corporate annual gala is next Friday. Make arrangements to come with me."
Eleanor froze in surprise. Ryan had never invited her to company functions before. When she'd asked once, he'd brushed it off with, "You won't enjoy those crowded formal events," and she'd never brought it up again.
"Why invite me all of a sudden?" she asked, keeping her tone light and casual.
Ryan hesitated briefly before saying, "Ms. Lane says she can't handle greeting guests alone, needs a female companion to help host."
Ms. Lane. Always Olivia.
Eleanor stared down at her food, stirring it listlessly with her fork. "Fine. I'll go."
*****
On the night of the gala, Eleanor wore a champagne-colored evening gown sent over by Ryan's staff. The fit was perfect, the fabric luxurious, the tailoring impeccable; it was clearly an expensive designer piece.
As she stood before the mirror, a quiet question crossed her mind. How did Ryan know her exact dress size?
He had never once gone shopping with her in three years of marriage.
She shook the thought away, finishing her makeup, styling her hair neatly, and spritzing on a light perfume before waiting by the front door for Ryan's car.
The vehicle pulled up shortly after.
Eleanor opened the car door and noticed someone already in the passenger seat.
Of course, Olivia.
"I'm so sorry, Ms. Shaw." Olivia turned around with a bright, flawless smile. "Mr. Grant offered me a ride on the way over. I hope you don't mind."
Eleanor smiled politely, "Not at all."
She slid into the back seat.
The entire drive was filled with Ryan and Olivia discussing work, like quarterly reports, project deadlines, and client feedback. Those were all topics Eleanor didn't understand and couldn't join in on.
Leaning against the rear window, she watched the city lights blur past, feeling utterly like an outsider looking in on their lives.
Not just like an outsider. She WAS the outsider.
The annual gala was held in the grand ballroom of a five-star hotel, awash in brilliant light and the soft din of clinking glasses.
When Eleanor entered on Ryan's arm, a ripple of attention followed her. Eyes turned their way, filled with quiet appraisal, open curiosity, and a flicker of smug delight from those watching from the sidelines.
She caught snippets of quiet chatter behind her back. "Mr. Grant finally brought his wife. Must be to quiet family gossip."
"Don't be fooled. Look how he can't stop glancing over at Ms. Lane all night."
Eleanor pretended not to hear a word.
Maintaining her polished social smile, she followed Ryan through the crowd, exchanging toasts and empty pleasantries with guests.
Compliments on her appearance met with thank yous; awkward questions about starting a family met with a calm, patient "We're taking our time."
She kept smiling, but inside, her heart was breaking.
Mid-event, Eleanor stepped away to the restroom to touch up her makeup. Pushing open the stall door, she overheard a voice on the phone from inside one of the private stalls.
"I never thought he'd bring his wife tonight. Probably just to shut his family up... Don't worry, there's nothing going on between us, strictly professional. How does he treat me? He's always been generous and supportive..."
It was Olivia's voice, clear as day.
Eleanor's fingers tightened around her clutch bag.
She turned without a word, walking straight out of the restroom.
She never turned back toward the ballroom, never sent that message to Ryan. Alone, her steps carried her straight through the hotel's doors, the sharp staccato of her heels the only sound crossing the vast marble lobby.
Outside, a fine, cool rain had begun.
The March rain was light, a fine drizzle that kissed her skin with a cool touch. Standing under the hotel's covered entrance, Eleanor stared blankly out at the rain curtain.