Chapter 5
I was sitting at a tiny cafe tucked into the corner of an old alley.
Not some big-name spot. Definitely not Finn’s Glory Cafe, even though they made the one coffee I actually liked.
I didn’t want anything that reminded me of him right now.
I was poking at a slice of tiramisu, half-eaten, just watching the foam in my cappuccino melt.
In my last life, whenever I got the guts to talk to Finn about how I really felt, it was always the same routine. He’d hush me with
that look of his, calm me down with a touch on my hand, or drop some expensive gift in front of me like that was supposed to fix
everything.
And stupid me, I let it every time. Like his approval was the only thing that made me real.
Thinking back on all of it now just made me laugh. God, I was pathetic.
Then my phone buzzed. It was Finn.
“Don’t forget what this marriage is about, business. Don’t expect anything else from me. I’m not like other husbands. I never will
be.”
Yeah, no kidding. Like I didn’t already know that.
But what he didn’t know? We’d already signed the divorce papers. He just hadn’t seen the final notice yet. And I wasn’t gonna
spell it out for him.
I wanted to see the look on his face when he finally realized it, when he figured out that I left him before he even noticed I was
gone.
***
A week passed.
Some huge charity event was happening, sponsored by Finn, of course.
Finn was the sponsor and donated many things, attracting many local big shots.
Then Leo, his assistant, called me up.
“Mrs. Gallagher, there’s a charity gala this weekend. Would you like to attend?”
I could hear the hesitation in his voice. It wasn’t a real invite.
Finn never wanted me at these events. Said I might cause “unnecessary misunderstandings.”
So I always let Madeline, his precious first love, show up with our son Henry, while I stayed home like a ghost.
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But this time? I wasn’t gonna be invisible.
“Yes, I’ll be there,” I said, cool and firm. “As Finn’s wife.”
Leo stammered. “Alright… I’ll, uh, inform Mr. Gallagher.”
“Don’t bother. I don’t need permission to show up at my husband’s event. I’m a Carter. I have every right to be there.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
I hung up.
The night of the event, I wore a white cocktail dress, simple, elegant, expensive.
I walked in with my chin up. But the second I stepped inside, my stomach dropped.
Madeline was already there. And she was wearing the exact same color, same style. White, short, tasteful.
Finn noticed too.
He frowned and muttered something to Leo, who ran off.
Minutes later, Leo returned with a floral red shawl and carefully draped it over Madeline’s shoulders.
Guests nearby started whispering.
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“Wow, Mr. Gallagher’s always looking out for her. Did you see how he looked at her last time? Like he wanted to eat her alive.”
“Wait, isn’t that his wife over there? The one in white too?”
“You sure? I thought the one with the kid was the wife.”
“Nah, word is the woman in white’s just some side piece. Finn’s real woman is Madeline; they’ve known each other forever.”
“Damn shame. She and Finn make a perfect couple.”
A man nearby leaned toward them and whispered, not very subtly, “Shh, that’s Mrs. Gallagher. For real. But look at her, wearing
the same thing as the mistress… and Finn’s not even looking at her.”
My face burned. I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug into my palms.
What was I doing here? Setting myself up for another round of humiliation? Just to prove I still mattered?
I was about to leave when I spotted Henry, my son, climbing up the staircase railing like it was a jungle gym.
He was sliding down the handrail like a damn playground.
My heart stopped. Finn was busy charming donors. Madeline was laughing with the mayor’s wife. No one was watching him.
“Henry!” I shouted.
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He froze when he saw me, his little face going pale. He tried to jump off and walk away, but his foot slipped.
Time slowed.
He lost his grip. He started falling.
Below him, there was a huge floor display. Crystal vases, iron sculptures, some twisted modern art centerpiece with sharp metal
points sticking out like blades.
If he hit that…
I didn’t think. I just moved.
I reached for him, grabbing his arm mid-fall. My other hand caught the railing, hard. My shoulder nearly popped. My legs
dangled, but I held on. Barely.
Gasps filled the room. Madeline screamed Henry’s name.
She ran toward the display and started yanking pieces away, dramatically flinching as one of the sharp edges pricked her hand. A drop of blood. A performance.
Then Finn moved. Fast. Strong. Effortless. He reached us in seconds, scooped Henry up with one arm like it was nothing.
Henry burst into tears and clung to him.
Finn didn’t even care about me.
He just turned to me and snapped, “Why can’t you keep an eye on your own kid?”
I was still hanging off the railing. Still shaking. Still catching my breath. My fingers were burning, my shoulder felt wrecked.
But all he saw was Madeline bleeding and Henry crying.
He wrapped his coat around Madeline and led her out of the hall, not sparing me a second glance.
I held on a few seconds longer, then let go.
I fell. Hard. The decoration had been cleared, but I hit the ground flat. My back screamed. The lights above me blurred.
Then everything went black.
