Chapter 3 - The Interrogation
Back inside the grand ballroom, chaos had entirely replaced the celebration.
The three-piece band had packed up their instruments and slipped out the service entrance. Waitstaff in black vests hovered awkwardly near the walls, unsure whether to clear the untouched prime rib dinners or wait for an instruction that nobody seemed capable of giving.
Blake was sitting on the edge of the dais, his tuxedo jacket discarded on the floor, his bow tie pulled loose. He had called Kira twelve times, only to be sent immediately to a generic automated message stating the number was no longer in service.
""She changed her number?"" Blake muttered to himself, running his hands roughly through his hair. ""She couldn't have. It takes days to transfer an enterprise line. How did she even do that?""
""She didn't do it today, genius,"" Gavin said, walking over and kicking the side of Blake's abandoned jacket. ""Sarah Sterling is a managing partner at one of the top commercial litigation firms in the country. Kira probably had a burner phone ready for three weeks. She planned this.""
""Why would she plan this?!"" Blake shouted, jumping to his feet. Several older guests gasped at the outburst. ""If she had a problem, why didn't she just say something?! We lived together for three years! We picked out the dining room chairs together! She never said, 'Blake, don't dance with Riley.' She never gave me an ultimatum!""
""Because she shouldn't have had to!"" Gavin barked, his face inches from Blake’s. ""What part of your thick skull doesn't understand that a grown woman should not have to plead with her fiancé not to put his ex-crush ahead of her on their wedding day? You shouldn't need a rulebook to tell you not to act like a total idiot!""
""Blake, please stop yelling,"" Riley wept from behind a nearby table. Her mascara was running now, leaving dark streaks down her porcelain cheeks. ""This is all my fault. I shouldn't have asked. I just... I was feeling so nostalgic, and I thought Kira understood our bond. I never meant to ruin your marriage!""
""You didn't ruin it, Riley,"" Evelyn Adams, Blake’s mother, said, sweeping into the circle with her arms outstretched to comfort the weeping girl. ""Kira did this. This is completely childish. To humiliate our family in front of the judge, the city councilman, and Blake’s senior partners? It’s unhinged. When she calms down and realizes she threw away a good man over a harmless dance, she will come crawling back to apologize.""
Gavin looked at Blake’s mother with pure, unadulterated disgust. ""Evelyn, with all due respect, you're as blind as your son is. Kira Lawson doesn't crawl. Ever. Have you looked at the financial split on the documents Blake is holding?""
Blake froze. Slowly, he looked down at page fourteen of the petition.
His eyes scanned the fine print, and the blood drained from his face once more.
""The apartment..."" Blake stammered.
""What about the apartment?"" Evelyn asked sharply. ""Blake paid the deposit!""
""No, Mom,"" Blake said, his stomach plummeting into a bottomless void. ""The loft in Tribeca... Kira bought it through an LLC before we got engaged. She let me live there and pay half the utilities, but the equity... the title... it’s entirely in her name. The prenuptial agreement we both signed last month? It had an infidelity and public humiliation clause that Sarah drafted.""
""You didn't cheat!"" Evelyn snapped. ""A dance isn't infidelity!""
""Read section four, subsection B,"" Gavin said casually, pulling out his own phone. ""Sarah sent a digital copy to my email ten minutes ago as a courtesy to the wedding party. Public conduct causing demonstrable reputational or emotional damage at a sanctioned family or professional event forfeits the non-breaching party's obligation to provide ninety days' notice of eviction.""
Blake dropped the papers. ""She’s kicking me out.""
""By midnight tonight,"" Gavin confirmed. ""Her brothers Julian and David are probably at the loft right now with a locksmith and four storage pods. You don't have a wife, Blake. And in about four hours, you aren't going to have an address, either.""
Riley took a step toward Blake, her hands clasped together in an attitude of desperate supplication. ""Blake... you can stay with me. My guest room is open. I can make you dinner. We can figure this out together.""
Blake looked at Riley. He looked at her tear-stained eyes, her quivering lower lip, and the delicate floral dress she had chosen specifically because Blake once told her pink was her best color.
For ten years, that look had made him feel like a titan. It had made him feel needed, noble, and essential.
Now, looking at her, all he saw was the wreck of his entire future. The promotion he was expecting at his firm—a firm where Kira’s father sat on the advisory board—was instantly dead in the water. His home was gone. The woman who had balanced his chaotic life, who had made him coffee every morning, who had looked at him like he was the only man on earth until he showed her he couldn't be trusted—was gone.
""Get away from me, Riley,"" Blake said, his voice flat and dead.
May you like
Riley stepped back as if slapped. ""Blake?""
""I said get away from me."" Blake picked up his coat from the floor, turned his back on his mother, his guests, and his childhood friend, and ran toward the double doors.
