Chương 5
Melissa’s voice became softer.
“Alyssa, I think Jasmine knew exactly who you were before Aaron started pretending you were just his wife.”
Nobody spoke.
Outside the window, a truck stopped at the intersection below.
A delivery driver stepped out and checked a clipboard.
Normal life continued.
That was the strangest part.
The world never paused when something inside you broke.
“Melissa,” I said.
“Yes?”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
A long silence followed.
Then she answered.
“Because yesterday, after you left the plane, Aaron told the board you were having an emotional reaction and that everything would be handled privately.”
My jaw tightened.
“And?”
“And then Jasmine walked into the meeting.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“What did she say?”
Melissa exhaled.
“She said maybe it was time for the company to stop depending on people who weren’t part of its future.”
The sentence hit harder than I expected.
Because it wasn’t about me.
It was about replacing me.
Not just as Aaron’s wife.
As part of the history he wanted erased.
I looked at the folder on the table.
The one containing every agreement I had signed.
Every risk I had taken.
Every sacrifice nobody knew about.
“Melissa,” I said.
“Yes?”
“Send me everything you have.”
She went quiet.
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
The call ended.
Daniel looked at me.
“You know what this means.”
I nodded.
For the first time since leaving the plane, I felt something other than pain.
Not happiness.
Not revenge.
Something colder.
Clarity.
Aaron had not simply forgotten where he came from.
Someone had been helping him forget.
And now I needed to find out whether he had been manipulated.
Or whether he had willingly let himself become someone I no longer recognized.
The next three hours passed without a single dramatic phone call.
That was somehow more exhausting.
I had expected anger.
I had expected Aaron to arrive at the office demanding answers, accusing me of betrayal, reminding everyone that he was the reason the company existed.
Instead, there was silence.
And silence from Aaron had always been more dangerous than shouting.
When he was angry, he reacted.
When he was calculating, he waited.
Daniel spent most of the afternoon reviewing the information Melissa sent.
There were emails.
Internal schedules.
Meeting notes.
Nothing illegal.
Nothing that could be used as a simple weapon.
That was the frustrating part.
Jasmine had been careful.
Every document showed a talented employee who worked hard, solved problems, and earned trust.
If someone looked at the surface, they would see a young executive assistant who helped a company become more efficient.
They would not see the pattern.
The questions she asked.
The people she approached.
The information she collected.
The way she slowly moved from being useful to being essential.
“She didn’t force her way into his life,” Daniel said.
He sat across from me with several printed pages spread across the table.
“She made herself impossible to remove.”
I looked at the timeline.
“She learned his weaknesses.”
Daniel nodded.
“And she learned yours.”
That sentence bothered me.
“What does that mean?”
He tapped one of the emails.
“She knew you handled financial discussions privately.”
“That’s not a weakness.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“It was a weakness only because Aaron stopped appreciating it.”
I leaned back in my chair.
The room felt too quiet.
When I first met Aaron, he had admired everything about me that people later criticized.
My confidence.
My family background.
My understanding of business.
My ability to walk into a room and immediately recognize who held power.
He used to say those things made him better.
Later, those same things became proof that I was spoiled.
It was strange how easily love could change the meaning of the same person.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Aaron.
We need to meet.
I stared at it.
Daniel noticed.
“Are you going?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s honest.”
I looked at him.
“You always make honesty sound like a compliment.”
“It usually is.”
I almost smiled.
Almost.
Then another message appeared.
Please, Alyssa.
The word bothered me.
Not because it was emotional.
Because Aaron rarely used it.
Not with me.
Not anymore.
“He sounds different,” I said.
Daniel studied my face.
“Does that matter?”
I didn’t answer.
Because it did.
That was the uncomfortable truth.
Even after everything, a part of me still wanted to believe there was a person underneath all the damage.
A person who could look at what happened and finally understand.
I agreed to meet him.
Not at the office.
Not at home.
A small restaurant halfway between his headquarters and my family’s building.
Neutral ground.
That was something I never understood when I was younger.
People thought strong relationships were built by never needing boundaries.
They were wrong.
Sometimes boundaries were the only thing preventing two people from destroying each other.
Aaron arrived ten minutes late.
That alone surprised me.
He was never late.
Not for investors.
Not for interviews.
Not for employees.
Not for anyone who could affect his reputation.
Apparently, I no longer qualified.
He looked exhausted.
Not the dramatic kind.
The real kind.
His suit was slightly wrinkled.
His hair was not perfectly arranged.
The man who usually looked like he stepped out of a magazine looked like someone who had spent the night arguing with himself.
He sat down.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “I didn’t know about the board review.”
I looked at him.
“That’s what you wanted to talk about?”
“No.”
He looked away.
“I just…”
He stopped.
That was unusual.
Aaron was never at a loss for words.
“I don’t know how to start this.”
I folded my hands.
“Try the beginning.”
His eyes met mine.
“I was wrong.”
The sentence was so unexpected that I almost missed it.
Aaron Prescott apologized like a man signing a contract.
Rarely.
Carefully.
Only when he had no other option.
“I should have handled the plane differently,” he said.
May you like
I waited.
He looked uncomfortable.
