“Yes. It’s delicious. For the first time in weeks, I’m really hungry.”
Nerissa gives her the sweetest smile in the world and then says confidently:
“Then eat. You deserve it after what you did today.”
Chapter 26
The front door closes behind her. For years, Seraphina Chapman has heard that sound dozens of times a week, and it never seemed significant to her, just another detail in the routine of a perfectly orchestrated life. Now, however, she knows it marks the end of a chapter that can no longer be prolonged.
The house is silent. There is no children’s laughter drifting down from the upper floor, no brightly colored drawings left on the kitchen table, no echo of joyful footsteps racing through the hallway. Oliver and Ivy are still in a temporary refuge, far from everything they have experienced over the last few days. For the first time in many years, the house she always considered a home seems too large and too empty, as if the walls themselves had absorbed the essence of what was once a family.
Seraphina walks slowly down the hallway. The family photographs occupy their usual places on the walls and shelves. Perfect smiles frozen behind glass, images that now seem to her like a carefully crafted mask. She looks at one of them as she passes, pausing for a moment. In the photo, Elliot has an arm around her waist with an ease that once seemed genuine. She smiles at the camera, with the children between them, forming a flawless composition. A family admired by everyone in their social circle, even envied.
She continues into the living room, where the afternoon light filters through the large window overlooking the backyard. Elliot is waiting for her there, sitting on one of the sofas. He holds a cup of coffee in his hands, and his relaxed posture contrasts with the storm she had imagined during the entire drive over. He doesn’t seem angry or defeated. Just deeply tired. When he sees her enter, he looks up, and for a few seconds neither of them speaks.
“Hi,” Elliot says after a moment.
“Hello,” she replies.
Elliot gestures toward the sofa across from him.
“Please, sit down. You must be tired after everything.”
She hesitates for a moment, feeling a knot in her stomach, but eventually does. She sets her purse aside and takes the far end of the sofa. A safe distance remains between them—a necessary one after everything that happened. Silence settles between them once more, but it is no longer a hostile silence weighed down by accusations.
“I saw the board’s press conference this morning,” says the man who is still her husband.
Seraphina nods, recalling every word spoken into the microphones.
“It was a long and difficult morning. The reporters wouldn’t let up, and the board members seemed like wolves waiting for their moment.”
“I can imagine. It must have been exhausting.” He watches her for a few seconds, studying her expression. “I never imagined Adrian could do something like that,” he adds a moment later. “I’m glad you brought him down.”
She lets out a deep breath as her fingers interlace in her lap.
“He destroyed himself. His own decisions led him to that point. I just revealed what was already there, hidden beneath layers of lies.”
“Maybe so,” he admits, looking down at the empty cup. “Even so, you saved the clinic from total collapse.”
It takes Seraphina a few seconds to respond.
“I suppose so.”
The words produce an unexpected sensation in her chest because they don’t sound like an attack. They sound like a sincere farewell, like the acknowledgment of a chapter coming to a close.
Elliot remains silent for a few more seconds, drumming his fingers lightly on the table. Then he sets the cup aside and leans back in his chair.
“When I received those photographs, I thought it was the worst day of my life. The ground opened up beneath my feet, and everything we’d built seemed to crumble in an instant.”
She looks down at her hands, making no attempt to defend or justify herself. There’s no room for that anymore.
“I know. I can imagine the pain you felt.”
“No. You don’t,” he corrects her in a calm but sincere tone, without raising his voice. “I thought you’d humiliated me publicly. That you’d destroyed everything we’d built together over the years. The clinic, the family, our reputation… everything.”
He pauses for a long moment, gazing out at the garden through the large window, where the leaves on the trees sway gently in the breeze.
“And then what came next changed my perspective.”
