My Husband's Blindness, My Sweet Revenge

The tension on the balcony was thick enough to choke on. The bass from the club below thumped against the glass walls, a rhythmic heartbeat to the standoff.

Brandon Maxwell leaned against the railing, swirling his drink. He smirked, his eyes darting between Alexander and Evelyn. Trouble in paradise, Alex? I didn't think the mute wife had it in her to go rogue.

Alexander ignored him. His gaze was locked on Evelyn. Why are you doing this? Is this about the anniversary? I told you, Scarlett-

Alex?

The voice was soft, breathless, and laced with a practiced fragility.

Alexander stiffened. He turned around.

Scarlett Sharp stood at the entrance of the balcony. She was wearing a white dress, modest and high-necked, a stark contrast to Evelyn's emerald provocation. She clutched her chest slightly, her eyes wide and shimmering with unshed tears.

Scarlett? Alexander's voice softened instantly. What are you doing here? You should be in bed.

Scarlett took a shaky step forward. I... I saw your location on the shared family app. I was worried. You seemed so stressed when you left the hospital earlier.

She looked at Evelyn. Her eyes flicked over the dress, the champagne, the hosts who were lingering nearby. A flash of pure, cold envy passed through her gaze, gone so quickly only Evelyn saw it.

Oh, Evelyn, Scarlett breathed, sounding heartbroken. How can you do this? Look at you... drinking, partying. You're embarrassing the family. After everything Alex has done for you.

Evelyn set her glass down. The sound of glass on marble was sharp.

The tracker dog arrives, Evelyn said. Her voice was dry, cutting through Scarlett's performance.

Scarlett gasped, taking a step back as if physically struck. She grabbed Alexander's arm for support. Alex... she's so cruel.

Alexander stepped between them, shielding Scarlett with his body. He glared at Evelyn. Watch your mouth, Evelyn. She is sick. She came here out of concern.

Evelyn laughed. It was a cold, humorless sound. Concern? She came here to mark her territory. Protecting your mistress already, Alexander? The ink isn't even dry on the divorce papers.

Alexander's jaw tightened. She is not my mistress. She is-

Your first love. Your priority. Your obsession, Evelyn finished for him. We know the script, Alex. It's boring.

Brandon chimed in, laughing. Come on, Evelyn. You know you don't belong here. Look at you, trying to play the femme fatale. You're a community college dropout. You wouldn't know high society if it hit you in the face. Go back to your art history books.

Evelyn shifted her gaze to Brandon. Her eyes were laser-focused.

And you, Brandon, are a trust fund baby who failed the bar exam twice, she said calmly. And I believe your father is currently investigating that 'misplacement' of funds from the Maxwell charity account.

Brandon's smirk vanished. His face turned a blotchy red. You little-

He took a step forward.

Scarlett let out a small, pained whimper. Alex... my heart... it's beating so fast.

Alexander's attention snapped back to Scarlett immediately. He turned his back on Evelyn. Deep breaths, Scarlett. I've got you.

He looked over his shoulder at Evelyn, his expression filled with disgust. You're causing a scene. You're hurting her. Are you happy now?

Evelyn stood up. She picked up her clutch.

She looked at Alexander, really looked at him. She saw the panic in his eyes for Scarlett. She saw the complete lack of regard for her.

She's hurting herself for attention, Alex. But you're too blind to see it. Fine. Ruin my night. I'm leaving.

She signaled to Sophie. Let's go.

Evelyn walked past Alexander. The space on the balcony was tight. As she squeezed past him, the hem of her silk dress brushed against his leg.

A scent wafted up from her skin.

It wasn't the floral, powdery perfume she used to wear-the one his mother had bought for her.

It was Santal, Jasmine, and a hint of woodsmoke.

Alexander froze.

The smell hit him like a physical blow. It triggered a memory-darkness, cold stone, the smell of damp earth. It was a comforting scent, one that he associated with safety in the midst of terror.

Strange, he thought. Why does she smell like... that?

For a split second, his mind tried to make a connection. But then Scarlett squeezed his hand, pulling him back to the present. Scarlett was the one who saved him. Scarlett was the one who had been there. Evelyn was just... Evelyn.

He shook his head, dismissing the thought as a trick of the alcohol and the heavy atmosphere.

Take me home, Alex, Scarlett whimpered. Please.

Alexander led her out.

Outside, the air was cold. As Evelyn stepped onto the sidewalk, a wall of white light blinded her.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

Paparazzi.

Mrs. Vance! Is it true you're divorcing?

Mrs. Vance! Who is the man in the photo?

Scarlett had tipped them off. Evelyn knew it.

Evelyn put on her sunglasses, despite the darkness. She turned to the cameras. She didn't hide. She didn't cower.

She smiled. A cold, mysterious smile.

No comment, she said.

She slipped into a yellow taxi, leaving the chaos, the flashing lights, and her husband behind.