Chapter 3
3.
Adrian didn't know that over the past five years, I never truly gave up photography.
I maintained my portfolio and client contacts, took small shoots, practiced retouching, and quietly familiarized myself with New York's production workflows.
He never asked what I did during the day.
The day before my procedure, I got a call from a New York arts magazine I had worked with before.
They were doing a feature on Manhattan's elite.
The interview subject happened to be Adrian.
The editor-in-chief, Martin Shaw, knew I was in New York and had seen my previous work. He asked if I wanted to be the photographer.
The pay was excellent.
Almost on impulse, I said yes.
I wanted to see what would happen when I stepped into his world, in front of his colleagues, as Evelyn Hart the photographer.
On the day of the shoot, I arrived at the firm early.
The receptionist, Emma Brooks, asked for my purpose of visit.
Just as I pulled out my magazine press pass and the signed commission letter, a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Evelyn? What are you doing here?"
Nora marched over in her heels, looking at me like I was a stain on the carpet.
"This is a working area. Unauthorized personnel aren't allowed."
"I'm here for work."
Nora's smile faltered for a second before she looked me up and down.
"What work? Food delivery?"
She let out a laugh.
"Stop joking around. This is a law firm, not your kitchen."
I handed my credentials forward.
"I have a 3 PM appointment with the magazine to shoot a feature on Mr. Bennett."
Nora raised an eyebrow.
"What magazine would hire you? You don't even know the rules of the New York photography scene."
I took a deep breath and dialed Adrian's number.
He picked up quickly, his tone impatient.
"What is it? I'm busy."
"I'm downstairs at your firm."
Dead silence on the line for two seconds.
Then, footsteps.
Adrian walked out. The moment he saw me, his brow furrowed deeply.
"What are you doing here? Go home. We have plans tonight."
"I'm here for work."
I held out the commission letter again.
He glanced at it but didn't take it, as if he had just heard an absurd joke.
"What work could you possibly have?"
"Photography."
Adrian looked at me, his eyes filled with that familiar disdain.
"You haven't seriously picked up a camera in five years. What can you shoot? Stop embarrassing yourself here."
The elevator doors dinged open.
Martin walked out with his team.
"Mr. Bennett, a pleasure. Evelyn, you're already here?"
He turned to me.
"Ms. Hart, we can get started. Want to check the lighting first?"
Adrian's expression froze.
Nora stood rooted to the spot.
The interview went smoothly.
When it was time for the shoot, I raised my camera and looked at Adrian through the viewfinder.
This was the man I had spent my entire youth loving and looking up to.
Now, through the lens, all that was left was a handsome, completely unfamiliar face.
I shot three sets.
Martin kept nodding.
"Excellent. Evelyn, this set has a lot of power."
As we were wrapping up, I crouched on the floor to change lenses.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nora approaching.
"Ms. Hart, I completely misunderstood earlier. I'm sorry."
She reached out as if to apologize, but the pointed toe of her stiletto deliberately caught my camera strap. With a sharp, covert flick of her foot, she sent the camera crashing into the metal trash can against the wall.
Crack.
The lens shattered.
A deep crack split the camera body.
She immediately raised her voice, feigning panic.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!"
My mind went completely blank.
That was the vintage camera my father left me.
The day he passed away, I held it and cried through the entire night.
Nora kept apologizing, her voice laced with panic, but a flash of twisted satisfaction crossed her eyes.
I stood up, my eyes burning red. I took a step toward her, reaching out to grab the broken camera at her feet.
"Evelyn!"
Adrian stepped in front of Nora, grabbing my wrist hard and yanking me back.
"She didn't mean it. Don't make a scene in front of the client and editor."
He stared at me, his voice ice-cold.
"It's just an old camera. Are you seriously going to throw a tantrum over this?"
I looked at him.
He was shielding Nora.
A freezing numbness slowly washed over my entire body.
Seeing the tension, Martin and his team awkwardly excused themselves.
I crouched down and picked up the broken camera.
Adrian walked over and held out a few crisp bills.
"Get it fixed. And stop acting like a child."
The cash slipped past my fingers and fluttered to the floor.
I didn't look at him.
I didn't look at Nora's fake, pitiful face either.
I held my camera, turned around, and walked out.
I went to the clinic alone and completed the abortion procedure as scheduled.
I'm sorry.
I never got to meet you.