Chapter 13 - The Exit I Chose
Adrian offered me his driver. I declined. Marco offered to escort me to the elevator. I declined him too.
The hotel corridor smelled faintly of lilies and carpet cleaner. The reporters beyond the private suite had dispersed toward a fresh rumor, their cameras pointed somewhere else. I could almost hear the story being written without us.
Elena waited outside under the awning, hands shoved into the pockets of her navy coat. When she saw me she didn't ask for details. She put one arm around my shoulders and walked me toward her sedan.
“Is he coming?” she asked.
“No.”
“Did he keep the agreement?”
“He signed it. That isn't the same thing.”
At a traffic light I told her about the divorce motion and the trust notice. She listened without interrupting, then said, “You can want Leo to be safe without volunteering to run Adrian's crisis department.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I stared at my reflection in the windshield. I'd stepped into the Plaza telling myself I was protecting a child. Within twenty minutes I had been described as a wife, a corporate shield, and the answer to a guardianship problem.
Elena drove me home to Brooklyn Heights. On the third-floor landing, my key stuck in the lock as usual. The apartment smelled of pencils, coffee, and the small lavender plant on the windowsill.
May you like
Nothing in it belonged to Adrian. I stood in the kitchen until my breathing slowed, then texted Miriam the photographed papers.
The response appeared almost immediately: You did the right thing by leaving.
