Chapter 7 Truth and Choices
Serena Sinclair's POV:
The restaurant wasn't crowded, but the atmosphere was elegant. I stumbled slightly in my new heels, and Phillip quickly caught my elbow to steady me. That brief contact sent an almost imperceptible flutter through me.
"Careful," he said softly, as if afraid to disturb something.
Just then, Andrew looked up from his business lunch, his gaze lingering on me and Phillip. I instinctively straightened my back, suddenly aware that Phillip's hand was still on my elbow.
"Serena?" Phillip's voice brought me back to the present.
"Sorry," I smiled at him. "Shall we go in?"
Finding the first floor full, we took a window seat on the second floor. The city sprawled out below us, a tapestry of glass and steel catching the midday sun.
"Do you have any dietary restrictions?" I asked, trying to break the silence.
"No," Phillip replied.
"Do you prefer mild flavors, spicy, or sweet..."
"Mild," he responded with an almost too-brief coolness.
I couldn't help but wonder how his wife or girlfriend dealt with such terseness. Living with someone like him must be quite... uninteresting.
I ordered several dishes I'd tried before, all with relatively mild flavors. While waiting for our food, we sat in what felt like an increasingly awkward silence.
Finally, trying to break the tension, I blurted out, "You must have been married before?"
I regretted the question immediately. It seemed too personal. Instead of easing the awkwardness, I'd made it worse.
"What makes you think I was married?" He didn't seem offended, just curious.
I glanced at him cautiously. "Well... you seem like you're at that age."
His eye twitched slightly. "Do I look that old?"
"No, no, not at all!" I scrambled to explain. "You're still very young! It's just that men around this age are usually married, so I assumed... I definitely wasn't suggesting you were old."
He wasn't angry. Instead, he answered thoughtfully, "I've never been married."
He paused for a moment, his expression growing distant. "A professor once wanted his student to marry me, but she ended up marrying someone else. After that, I just never met the right person."
I froze. Phillip's words rippled through the air like a stone dropped into still water. A professor wanted his student to marry him? And that student ended up marrying someone else? This Phillip was so different from the perpetually composed man I thought I knew.
"Why—" Before I could finish, our server appeared with the appetizers. I quickly composed myself, hiding my surprise.
"This is their signature appetizer," I offered, trying to move past the moment. "The chef does amazing things with simple ingredients."
Phillip nodded at the dish before him. "Looks good." His response was characteristically brief, but I noticed his expression had softened as he tasted the food.
"How is it?" I attempted to keep the conversation going.
"Not bad." He replied after savoring a bite, his gaze lingering on my face for a moment. "You know this place well."
"I used to come here often." My voice dropped involuntarily as memories of dinners with Alex surfaced.
Phillip seemed to notice the shift in my mood and, unusually for him, took the initiative. "Your analysis of the QuickChain case was quite unique."
"Really?" My eyes lit up. "Actually, I think there are several areas that need deeper investigation..."
Lunch ended with this exchange. On our way back to the firm, I noticed Phillip checking the rearview mirror frequently, his brow furrowed, though he said nothing. Back at the office, he suddenly called out to me. "You'll need to stay late today. We have some cases to review."
When I next looked up, only our desk lamps remained lit in the office. Night had fallen over New York, Manhattan's lights twinkling through the windows.
"I found three issues." I walked into Phillip's office, spreading the marked documents before him. "There are inconsistencies in the marriage license application dates, the investor's testimony contradicts his earlier SEC statement, and there's a pattern of suspicious wire transfers that could support the prosecution's narrative."
He studied my analysis carefully, a slight smile of approval crossing his lips. "Clear thinking. Very thorough."
His praise warmed me inside. Once upon a time, I had been among Yale Law's top graduates, before losing myself in marriage.
"It's late. I'll drive you back." Phillip stood, reaching for his coat.
When we pulled up at The Plaza, he finally spoke, "Someone was following us after lunch. That's why I kept you late." He turned to me, his eyes showing rare concern. "The Plaza's security isn't adequate. Be careful."
"I understand. Thank you." Before I could say more, my phone rang.
"It's me." Andrew's voice came through.
"Andrew? What is it?"
"It's my birthday tomorrow. Will you come?"
I hesitated, knowing Alex would be there. But then I remembered - I was divorced now.
"Alright," I answered calmly.
"The usual place in Hampton then."
The next evening, Le Bernardin's luxurious décor was as dazzling as ever. I smoothed down my dress. The familiar corridor leading to the private dining rooms brought back memories of countless business dinners where I'd played the role of the perfect wife.
Standing outside the private room, I suddenly heard Simon's voice. "Can't believe Alex did that with Emma. On his wedding anniversary of all days."
"Four years married, and he's screwing his assistant in the conference room," Simon continued in a lowered voice. "While Serena was waiting at the restaurant, letting their anniversary dinner go cold."
My body tensed. The memories suddenly became crystal clear: the carefully chosen dress, the endless wait at the restaurant, Alex's casual excuse about a "last-minute meeting." So while I was waiting, he and Emma were in the conference room... I fought back a wave of nausea.
Seven whole years together. From our first meeting to our passionate romance to what seemed like a perfect marriage. I gave up my career for him, willingly becoming his trophy wife. And this was how he repaid me?
I pushed open the door. The laughter inside died instantly. Alex sat at the head of the table, surrounded by Andrew, Leo, Simon, and several models I didn't recognize.
"Serena!" Leo called out with forced cheerfulness. "Come sit here." He gestured to the empty seat beside Alex.
A cold smile curved my lips. "No need. Alex and I are divorced." The words rang out clear and strong, causing several of the models to exchange wide-eyed looks.
Alex's face darkened immediately, his jaw tightening – that familiar tell of his mounting anger. His eyes darted between Andrew and me, suddenly sharp with suspicion. "Serena," he growled, using his usual commanding tone, "come here!"
Still the same old Alex, using that commanding tone, expecting the world to revolve around him. Once, I would have obeyed. But now...
"No." My voice was quiet but firm.
He pushed his chair back slightly, those expensive Italian shoes scraping against the hardwood floor. "Walk out that door," his voice dropped to that threatening whisper I knew so well, "and we're really over. No more chances, no more games."
I met his eyes directly, seeing him clearly perhaps for the first time. The man I'd once thought hung the moon now looked small, petty, desperately clinging to control he no longer had.
"We were over the moment you chose to believe I was guilty." My voice remained steady, each word precise and cutting. "But now I know we ended long before that, the moment you chose to betray everything we built together, everything we promised each other." I turned to Andrew, managing a genuine smile. "Happy birthday."
Then I directly walked out. Alex's voice called after me, that familiar mix of command and threat, but for the first time, it held no power over me.