Chapter 184 Chapter 184 Carats of Lies
“How did you end up here again?” I ask myself while staring into the mirror. “You stupid girl.”
My private bathroom inside my office is spotless. Marble counters. Gold fixtures. Soft lighting that makes everyone look better than they feel. Right now even it can’t save me. I stare at myself. I am the curator for Chessman Gallery. I make great money. I still look like I’m twenty-one at thirty-two, though maintaining that takes a ridiculous amount of work. My body is killer, my wardrobe flawless, my life polished to perfection from the outside.
My kids are doing great. Really great.
Cat and Kat are five now. Quiet, observant little girls with giant personalities hidden behind serious expressions. Parenting with Mason has been surprisingly amazing. Every other week he takes both girls because, according to him, they miss each other too much when separated. Constantine is eleven already. Smart as hell. He goes to private school, plays sports, and is already learning a third language.
I’m a good mother.
Ivan is a good father too.
Present when work allows him to be. Thoughtful. He never forgets birthdays, anniversaries, or holidays. He always calls when he’s away. When he is home, he does school drop off, movie nights. He plans family vacations. Romantic dinners.
Our sex life though?
It’s dying.
I should have known.
From the outside everything still looks perfect, but inside…inside it’s starting to rot.
My eyes drift back down to the notification lighting up my phone.
Another message from an anonymous number.
Another set of photos of Ivan cheating.
For the last year, it’s all I get whenever he travels. While he’s out of town. Sometimes while I’m away meeting with artists for the gallery. Perfectly timed little reminders that my husband cannot keep his dick to himself.
At first I was furious.
Violent levels of angry.
I wanted to bash his fucking face in.
Now?
Now I’m just used to it.
That might be the saddest part.
I should divorce him. Take him for everything he’s worth.
But honestly, I don’t want shit from him.
Nothing.
Not even child support.
Just fuck off and sign over your rights.
That’s where I’m at mentally now.
I take a deep breath and force a smile onto my face before stepping back into my office.
The second I sit down, Gemma squints at me suspiciously.
“What’s wrong?”
I inhale deeply and let the breath out slowly. I haven’t told her or Tish yet. Both of them sit across from me while we eat lunch in my office. I take way too big of a bite from my sandwich, trying to avoid the conversation altogether.
My boss walks past the glass wall of my office.
“Elle, where are we with the Snaz deal?”
I try chewing faster so I can answer him and nearly choke instead. I give him a thumbs up.
“Smaller bites,” he says with a grin. “Come see me after lunch?”
I nod quickly.
The second he walks away, Tish leans back in her chair trying to get a better view through the glass.
“God, your boss is…something to look at.”
Mitch Daniels.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Red hair. Brown eyes. Always in tailored suits that fit him way too well. Smells amazing. Amazing smile. Recently divorced.
Diagnosis? Workaholic.
“I haven’t noticed,” I lie smoothly. “He’s a great boss.”
Bullshit.
Of course I notice him.
I have functioning eyes.
But they don’t see him like that.
Because I still love my cheating asshole husband.
“Ivan is cheating,” I blurt out suddenly.
Gemma and Tish freeze.
For what feels like forever, the three of us just stare at each other across my desk.
Then their expressions soften.
“I’m going to run him over,” Gemma says flatly.
“He’s a dead man,” Tish adds.
Despite everything, I laugh softly.
“All jokes aside,” Gemma says carefully, “what are you going to do?”
“It’s been a year,” I say quietly. “He’s been cheating for a year. And honestly? I don’t even know anymore. I’m not mad now. I just…don’t care.” I pause, dread settling in my stomach. “It’s going to break my kids.”
Then a terrible idea pops into my head.
“…Maybe I should ask him for an open marriage?”
“That’s a stupid fucking idea,” Tish says immediately. “Don’t you dare give him an excuse.”
“How do you even know?” she asks. “How did you find out?”
I unlock my phone and hand it over.
They scroll through the photos, videos, receipts, silently.
The really hilarious part?
Every single time he cheats, I get a new piece of jewelry afterward. Flowers delivered to the office. Sweet texts. “I miss you.” “I love you.” All wrapped in diamonds and guilt.
“File for divorce,” Gemma says in the most serious tone I’ve heard from her in years.
And the thing is?
I nod.
Because I should.
I probably will.
Maybe I’ll even have him served while he’s in LA next month. Let’s see what he thinks about that.
My luck though? He won’t care.
Or maybe he’ll pretend he’s going to change, only to go right back to cheating once things settle down again.
The truth is, I don’t know what he’ll do anymore.
I feel like I don’t know who he is.
Maybe I never did.
Eventually the conversation shifts into plans for our Sunday tennis match before the girls leave me alone with my thoughts.
Before I can spiral completely, I stand and head toward my boss’s office.
“Sorry about earlier,” I say while stepping inside. “Can I ask you something personal?”
Mitch looks up from his laptop, surprised. “Umm…yes?”
I close the glass door behind me and walk farther inside. Heat rushes to his face immediately, making me wonder what exactly he thinks I’m about to ask.
My eyes drift down to the massive yellow diamond on my finger.
Thirty carats of lies.
“Who was your divorce lawyer?” I ask quietly. “Can I have their contact information?”