Chương 2
Nobody had expected the wife of the CEO to simply walk away.
Especially not after being humiliated.
"Alyssa, don't be ridiculous," Aaron said.
"I'm not."
I looked at him.
"For the first time in a long time, I'm being completely serious."
The flight attendant glanced toward the cockpit.
A few seconds later, the captain appeared near the doorway.
"Mrs. Prescott?"
He lowered his head slightly.
"Are we canceling the departure?"
The question made everyone freeze.
Aaron's face tightened.
"No, we are not canceling anything."
The captain looked between us.
"Sir, if Mrs. Prescott is leaving, we need confirmation because the passenger manifest has already been finalized."
Nobody spoke.
The company executives suddenly became very interested in their phones.
The humiliation Aaron had tried to place on me had shifted direction.
Not because I attacked him.
Not because I raised my voice.
Because I stopped participating.
"Cancel my seat," I said.
The captain nodded.
"Of course, ma'am."
Aaron stood.
"Alyssa."
For the first time that day, his voice carried uncertainty.
I paused near the doorway.
I did not turn immediately.
Because I knew if I looked at him too soon, I might see the man I married instead of the man standing in front of me.
And I needed to remember the difference.
"What?"
His jaw moved slightly.
Like he had something important to say.
Something that might repair the moment.
But pride arrived first.
It always did.
"Don't make this into something bigger than it is."
I looked back at him.
A strange sadness moved through me.
Not anger.
Not anymore.
Sadness.
Because even then, after everything, he still did not understand.
"You already made it bigger than it was, Aaron."
Then I walked off the plane.
The airport terminal felt strangely ordinary after the door of the jet closed behind me.
A man in a business suit hurried past while arguing quietly on his phone, a child dragged a stuffed dinosaur across the polished floor, and a woman at a coffee stand laughed at something her friend whispered.
The world had not stopped because my marriage had cracked open.
That was almost the hardest part.
I had spent years believing my pain would eventually become visible enough for someone to notice.
Instead, life simply continued.
I walked toward the private aviation office with my suitcase rolling behind me, trying not to look back at the aircraft sitting outside the glass wall.
Aaron's jet.
Aaron's company.
Aaron's empire.
The things everyone thought belonged only to him.
A receptionist behind the desk looked up when I approached.
She recognized me immediately.
Everyone in that building recognized me.
Not because they knew me.
Because my face had appeared beside Aaron's in enough magazines and company announcements that people knew my last name before they knew anything else about me.
"Mrs. Prescott?"
Her expression changed from polite professionalism to concern.
"Is everything all right?"
I almost laughed.
It was a strange question.
Everything was not all right.
But explaining that would require opening a door I had spent years keeping shut.
"I'm leaving a passenger list issue," I said.
"My seat was removed."
The receptionist glanced toward her computer.
Her fingers moved quickly.
"Your name is still listed."
She looked confused.
"Actually, you're marked as the primary guest."
I stared at the screen.
For a moment, I felt the old instinct rise inside me.
The instinct to fix things quietly.
The instinct to protect Aaron from embarrassment.
I had spent years doing that.
When investors questioned him, I prepared answers.
When employees misunderstood his decisions, I softened the story.
When his mother criticized him, I defended him.
When he forgot important dates because of work, I told myself his ambition was part of the reason I loved him.
That woman was still inside me.
The woman who wanted to make everything easier.
But she was tired.
"No changes are needed," I said.
The receptionist hesitated.
"Are you sure?"
I nodded.
"Yes."
She printed a document and slid it across the desk.
"Your luggage can be transferred."
I looked down at the paper.
My name sat beside Aaron's under a heading that said owner guests.
For years, I had been listed there.
For years, I had assumed being beside him meant I had a place.
I folded the paper and placed it inside my bag.
"Thank you."
Outside the terminal, my driver was waiting.
Marcus had worked for my family long before he worked for me.
He was older now, with gray hair around his temples and the same quiet patience he had always carried.
When he saw me alone, his eyebrows moved slightly.
He did not ask questions immediately.
That was why I trusted him.
He understood that some wounds needed silence before words.
"Home?" he asked.
I looked toward the road.
The word felt unfamiliar.
Home.
Which home?
The apartment where Aaron and I started?
The mansion where every room had been designed by someone who knew luxury but not us?
The house that appeared in magazines while I slept alone in a bedroom beside a man who was physically there but emotionally somewhere else?
"Not yet," I said.
Marcus waited.
"Take me to the office."
He glanced at me through the mirror.
"Your office?"
I looked out the window.
"No."
A pause passed.
"Aaron's."
The Prescott Group headquarters stood in downtown Manhattan, a glass tower that reflected the city like it owned the sky.
When I first visited the building years earlier, Aaron had walked me through the lobby holding my hand.
He had looked nervous.
Not confident.
Not like the man everyone saw now.
He had whispered that he hoped one day the building would belong to him.
I had told him he would make it happen.
I remembered the exact words.
"You don't need everyone to believe in you yet."
"You only need enough time to prove them wrong."
At the time, I meant it as encouragement.
May you like
Now the memory felt like evidence from another person's life.
The security guard at the entrance straightened when he saw me.
