The End Of a Marriage
Chapter 55
Chapter 38
The party continued to whirl around them, a swirl of laughter and music, but Colette’s world came to a sudden halt as the door creaked open again. At first, she didn’t even notice. People came and went throughout the night, a seemingly endless stream of quests offering congratulations, compliments, and laughter. But then, her eyes caught the movement the way heads turned, the quiet murmur that spread through the room.
And there she was.
Iris Lawson, standing in the doorway, her gaze sharp and predatory. She didn’t look like a guest, nor did she carry the warm energy of someone there to
celebrate. She was an intruder.
Colette’s stomach dropped instantly.
No one else in the room seemed to blink an eye. She was, after all, Matt’s secretary. No one thought twice about her being there. But for Colette, it felt like the walls were closing in. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. Her mind raced with possibilities, her thoughts a chaotic whirl of dread.
Why was she here? Why now? Colette’s heart pounded in her chest as she saw the inevitable conclusion forming.
This whole party… the smiles… the kisses… Her mind spiraled. Was this Matt’s way of pacifying her? Lulling her into a false sense of comfort?
Her body went rigid as the realization took hold. It was all too familiar, too believable. This wasn’t the first time Matt had done something like this–made her feel safe, only to reveal the truth later, and tear her heart apart. Give poor, stupid Colette something to distract her while he orchestrated another
disaster behind her back.
She closed her eyes for a moment, the knot of anger and fear tightening in her chest as she tried to steady her breath. But it was impossible because, in that same moment, she realized Iris was walking straight toward them.
No… no, please God, no.
Colette’s body stiffened. Her spine went rigid as she realized what was about to happen. She hadn’t even noticed Matt’s hands on her shoulders until she shrugged them off, stepping away from him. Her eyes flicked toward the approaching figure of Iris.
There she was, blonde, statuesque, and calculating in a pale blue cotton dress, her every step radiating confidence. But all Colette could feel was dread, her
stomach churning, heart hammering in her chest.
“His dear little secretary,” Colette thought bitterly, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. She took a few more steps back, putting space
between herself and Matt as Iris finally reached them.
“Itty, come back here!” Matt’s voice was pleading, strained with something she couldn’t decipher, but she refused to look at him. She couldn’t bear to see
whatever expression was on his face–whether it was guilt, concern, or worse, indifference.
“I swear I don’t know why she’s here,” he said, his voice rising slightly, urgency creeping into his tone. “I told her to leave. I fired her yesterday… Itty,
please…”
But Colette wasn’t listening. His words barely registered. Her heart was pounding too loudly in her ears, her thoughts drowning out everything else.
Iris was right there in front of them now, close enough that Colette could see the faint smudges of mascara beneath her eyes, the slight disarray of her usually immaculate blonde hair. She looked nothing like the poised, polished woman Colette was used to seeing at Matt’s office. Something was off–terribly
off.
1/2
11:20 pm GP
Chapter 55
Before Colette could speak, before she could gather the words to confront Matt, Iris beat her to it.
“How could you do this to me, Matt?!” tris shrieked, her voice cracking as it echoed through the room. The sudden outburst immediately silenced the surrounding guests. All eyes snapped toward the commotion, the room growing deathly quiet as tris’s voice filled the space.
Colette’s breath caught in her throat. What was happening?
“How could you?!” Iris’s voice trembled, her eyes wide with a mix of fury and desperation. Colette blinked, shocked by the woman’s appearance. She looked disheveled, haggard even. Her usually perfect bun had stray strands of hair sticking out, and her eyes–red, swollen–looked like she’d been crying.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
