I turned back.
“What exactly does she know about our marriage?”
Vanessa smiled.
Too confidently.
“More than you think.”
Adrian stepped between us.
“Claire, go home. We’ll talk tonight.”
I stared at him.
“You want me to go home?”
“Yes.”
“And she stays?”
His face tightened.
“It’s work.”
Vanessa actually laughed.
Quietly.
That laugh made something inside me settle.
Not break.
Settle.
I said:
“Enjoy lunch.”
Then walked out.
I reached the executive restroom before realizing I was shaking.
I went inside.
Locked myself in one of the private vanity areas.
Turned on the faucet.
Cold water against my wrists.
I stared at myself.
Fifty-one years old.
Hair still long then, almost to my shoulders.
