Chapter 4
The next morning, Richard left the apartment early.
Before heading out, he tossed me a bank card.
"There's a thousand dollars on it. That's your allowance for the month."
One thousand dollars?
He had taken all my money, and now my whole month depended on the one thousand dollars he handed out.
I didn't take it.
He shrugged. "Suit yourself." Then he dropped the card on the entry table and shut the door behind him.
The apartment was dead quiet. I started going through the closet.
When I opened Richard's side, a silk scarf slipped out of one of his suit pockets.
It was pink, and the perfume on it was strong enough to fill the closet.
It wasn't a brand I had ever used.
I shoved the scarf back in and kept digging.
In the inner pocket of his second suit, my fingers brushed against a hotel keycard.
The magnetic strip was shot, but the room number was still printed on it.
I clenched the keycard in my hand.
My phone buzzed with a text from a coworker.
Coworker: [Evelyn, did you know? Mr. Shaw brought Monica into the office today. They've been in his office all morning.]
I put my phone down, threw on some clothes, and headed out.
When I got to the office, the receptionist looked genuinely surprised to see me.
She asked, "Ms. Lane, didn't you take the day off?"
I asked, "Who put in the leave request for me?"
She replied, "Mr. Shaw said you weren't feeling well and were resting at home."
I didn't respond and walked straight to the elevator.
When I reached Richard's office, I heard laughter coming from inside.
The door was slightly ajar.
Through the crack, I saw Monica sitting across from Richard's desk, holding a cup of coffee.
She was wearing a dress I recognized instantly.
Familiar wasn't the word for it.
It was my dress.
The dark green dress I'd left at Richard's place last month, the one with a smudge of lipstick on the collar.
Monica was wearing my dress, sitting in my husband's office, drinking the coffee he had poured for her, and smiling the whole time.
She suddenly saw me.
"Evelyn?" Monica blinked in surprise.
Monica's smile slipped for a moment, but she quickly put it back on.
She said, "What are you doing here? Richard said you were sick and resting at home."
Richard turned to glance at me, lifted his coffee and took a sip.
"Who said you could come to the office?" Richard asked.
"I came on my own," I said, pushing the door open and stepping inside. "This is my dress."
Monica glanced down at the dress and laughed. "Oh, is it? I thought Richard bought it for me."
"I bought it for her," Richard said.
I looked at him.
"You took my dress from my closet and gave it to her?" I asked.
"It's hers now. It has nothing to do with you," Richard said.
Monica stood up and walked over to me.
She was half a head taller than me, wearing my dress, standing in front of me with a smug, almost affectionate air.
"Come on, Evelyn, don't be mad. It's just a dress. If you want, I'll buy you a new one next time," Monica said.
"I don't need your compensation. I want you to take it off and give it back to me," I said.
Monica paused, then looked at Richard.
"Richard, your wife is so petty," Monica said.
"Ignore her," Richard said.
"Richard Shaw," I called him by his full name.
He finally met my eyes, really looking at me for the first time.
"Evelyn, can you act like an adult? You're making a scene and the whole floor is watching. Do you want everyone to see my wife storming in to pick a fight? You're the one who looks bad," Richard said.
"I'm the one who looks bad?" I asked.
"What else? Monica represents a client. What's wrong with buying her a coffee?" Richard said.
A client.
"Was she a client when she spent the night at your place last week?" I asked.
There was a moment of silence outside the office.
Richard slowly set down his coffee, walked to the door, and closed it.
Then he turned back to me, and the smile was gone.
"Are you stalking me?" Richard asked.
"I saw her shoes. Red high heels. You put them in the closet yourself," I said.
Monica sighed, "Evelyn, you're overreacting. Richard and I are friends. If you can't handle that much, I don't know what to tell you."
"Friends? He played me your voice message yesterday, right outside city hall! You still want to call that friends?" I shot back.
Monica's face shifted instantly.
She shot a look at Richard.
Richard's brow furrowed.
"You told her about the voice message?" Richard asked.
"You played it for me first," I replied.
"Letting you hear it doesn't mean you get to say it out loud in front of everyone," Richard snapped.
His logic was absurd.
"You cheated, and now you want me to keep quiet about it?" I said.
"Keep your voice down," Richard hissed.
"Why should I? You did it, and now you're scared people will find out?" I shot back.
Outside the door, I could hear the faint sound of footsteps and people whispering.
Richard's face darkened.
Suddenly, Monica grabbed my wrist, her grip so tight it hurt.
She leaned in close, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Evelyn, making a scene won't help. You're already married to him. You have nothing. Where would you go if you left? Have you forgotten what you did to yourself the last time you got divorced?"
A chill ran through me.
That was something I'd only ever confided in Richard.
He must have told her.
He'd turned my most humiliating, most broken moment into a joke for Monica.