The house was dark, except for Richard’s study. I heard muffled voices … and then soft crying. So, I followed the sound and peeked through the half-open door.
Emily was leaning on the desk, her back toward me.
“Richard, I’ve waited ten years for you. I was so scared I’d never get you back.”
He pulled her into his arms as he gently told her, “Silly girl. How could anyone forget you?”
“Everything that happens outside … it was just a performance.”
Emily lifted her face to his. Her lips brushed his jaw. Richard’s eyes darkened. Then, he picked her up and placed her on the desk.
I turned away the moment I heard the sound of fabric tearing. This was it, then. After all these years, I was nothing more than a performance.
Without further ado, I walked back to my room. For a while, I sat down. Eventually, I managed to sign the divorce agreement.
The next morning, it seemed that Richard was still high on romance as he actually called me downstairs for breakfast.
Richard served me bagels like he used to, even testing the temperature before placing it before me.
"Harriet," he called me with that tone of fake gentleness.