Chapter 7
Since I was leaving, I made sure to disappear completely.
No one knew where I had gone.
Looking at the company I had built from scratch, I felt a quiet satisfaction. I had done all this in such a short
amount of time.
Just yesterday, Beck and I signed the partnership agreement.
Without Cyrus, the world felt bigger. It had always been him who kept me caged.
I’d planned to stop by the corner and buy a bag of buttery gingerbread cookies.
I loved their flavor. It reminded me of the last bit of warmth at the end of winter.
“You haven’t changed a bit, still the same old you.”
His voice came from behind me, just as I took the bag of cookies from the vendor. My hands froze for a split
second.
Back then, when our business had failed and we were dead broke, it was almost Christmas.
We’d buy a single bag of ginger cookies and stretch them out for weeks. That was all the sweetness we had
that Christmas.
I still remembered the tears in his eyes when he promised me, “One day, Evelyn, you’ll have more cookies than you could ever eat. You’ll be happy for the rest of your life.”
But after that, he never bought them for me again.
Eventually, I stopped asking. The few times I did, he’d sneer and say that snack like that was beneath his
status.
The truth is, I never cared about the cookies.
I started to leave, but he stepped in front of me.
“Evelyn, I think we’ve both calmed down. Can we talk, please? No more avoiding this.”
I stayed calm. “Mr. Hill, there’s nothing for us to discuss. And please watch your language, I’m not avoiding you. I just have no interest in speaking with you.”
He grabbed my wrist. “Come on, Evelyn. Can’t we talk this out like adults? Just for a moment.”
I glanced him over. He looked older, more tired, but I couldn’t find a trace of the man I used to love.
“Fine,” I said coldly. “My time is expensive. One hundred thousand dollars an hour. Still want to talk?”
Cyrus gave a bitter laugh. “Do you have to be like this?”
“Mr. Hill,” I replied, “if not, I’m leaving.”
His eyes pleaded with me. “Alright. One hundred thousand.”
I couldn’t be bothered to go anywhere fancy. We took a seat on a park bench.
“Evelyn, just tell me why,” he asked.
“Why?” I echoed. “You really don’t know?”
“All because of some private Facebook posts? Because only you could see them? Evelyn, that’s ridiculous.”
“Cyrus,” I said slowly, “you still don’t get it.”
“This was never just about Facebook. That was just the final straw. You knew how much that secrecy hurt me. You knew what I’d been through. But you still chose to deceive me.”
“Evelyn…”
“You still don’t understand.”
“Evelyn, every rich guy cheats. It’s just how it is.”
He said it like it was a birthright.
“But as my husband, you weren’t supposed to.”
I pulled my arm free.
“You don’t want a clean ending? Fine. Let me ask you, those posts, were they written by you or Vivian? When
did it start?
The year I lost the baby? Or the year our company finally made it?
Maybe you think I’m overreacting, but you told another woman about the details of our life. What were you
two like when you laughed about me?”
“What exactly did you say about me?”
His hand fell away. “You… you know?”
“Vivian might as well have pinned that Instagram post to the top. I was just too blind to notice.”
“No! No way. I’ve never seen it.”
So she’d blocked him from seeing it. Cute.
I had dinner plans with Beck that evening. I didn’t have time for his guilt.
“Mr. Hill,” I said, standing up. “Remember to transfer that hundred thousand. If we can’t part on good terms, then let’s never cross paths again.”
“Evelyn! Cylyn Group was our baby! It was our life’s work! You’re destroying it!”
Amazing how now he remembered it was ours.
On the day he handed it to Vivian, he had no such thoughts.
He casually erased my name, my effort, my presence, told me to go home and be a good little wife.
I gave him one final look. “Cyrus, without you, I’ll only rise higher.”
I pulled my coat tight and walked away.
Behind me, Cyrus’s eyes reddened. He never thought I’d learn so much.
His fists clenched.
“Evelyn… you’ll never get away from me.”

Lucia Morh is a passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.

 
	 
 
		 
		 
		 
		 
		