The Wife Who Vanished: His Eternal Regret

Three days later, I was sketching by the lake when a shadow stretched across the open pages of my notebook.

I didn't need to look up to know who it was. The scent of sandalwood and desperation was unmistakable.

"You're hard to find," Emilio said.

I kept drawing. My charcoal stick bit into the paper, carving a line sharp and dark against the white. "Zurich isn't that big."

"I went to the school. They said you were on leave. I went to Ayla's. She shut the door in my face."

I finally looked up. He looked wrecked. His eyes were mapped with red veins, his suit wrinkled at the elbows. He looked like a man who had conquered a kingdom only to find the throne room empty.

"Go home, Emilio."

"I am home," he said, sinking onto the bench next to me. He reached for my hand. I pulled it away before his skin could graze mine. "Elana, please. I flew across the ocean for you. Doesn't that prove how much I care?"

"It proves you're controlling," I said, my voice flat. "Not loving."

"I booked a table," he pressed on, plowing over my words. "At the Dolder Grand. Tonight. Just... one dinner. Let me explain everything. Let me show you the plan I have for us. For Leo. For everyone."

"There is no 'everyone'," I said. "There is you and Hayden and Leo. And then there is me, oceans away from you."

"Please," he whispered. His voice cracked, a sound so uncharacteristic of the titan of industry he pretended to be. "Just one dinner. If you still want to leave after that, I'll sign the divorce papers. I swear."

I looked at him. I saw the manipulation, the practiced tilt of his head, but I also saw a flicker of genuine fear. He needed closure. Or maybe I did. I needed to see him one last time, to look him in the eye across a table and verify that the fire was truly dead.

"Fine," I said. "One dinner. Then you sign."

He smiled. It was a weak, hopeful thing that didn't reach his eyes. "Thank you. I'll send a car at seven."

The restaurant was a cavern of hushed wealth, candlelit and overlooking the city lights that glittered against the black expanse of the lake. It was romantic. It was expensive. It was exactly the kind of stage Emilio erected when he was selling a lie.

He had ordered my favorite wine. He had requested the violinists play our wedding song-a melody that once made my heart soar but now just sounded like a dirge.

"I remember the first time I saw you," he said, the wine gurgling softly as he poured. "You were wearing that blue dress. You looked like an angel."

"I was wearing jeans," I said, not touching my glass. I picked up the menu instead. "And I was crying because I had failed a statistics exam."

He paused, the bottle hovering mid-air. "Right. Well. You were still beautiful."

He set the bottle down, reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a velvet box. He slid it across the white tablecloth.

"Open it."

I didn't move. "Emilio, we are here to sign papers. Not to exchange gifts."

"It's the necklace," he urged, his eyes gleaming with the confidence of a man playing a trump card. "The sapphire one. It matches your eyes."

The silence that followed was louder than the violins.

"My eyes are brown, Emilio."

He froze. The smile faltered, twitching at the corners.

"Elana, why are you doing this? Why are you ruining this night?"

"Because this night is a farce!" I hissed, leaning in. "You pushed me down a flight of stairs-"

"It was a curb!"

"-and killed our child. And now you're trying to buy me back with jewelry you clearly bought for someone else!"

"I bought it for you!"

"Did you?"

A voice cut through the air, sharp as a razor and twice as cold.

"Actually, he bought it for me. But I told him sapphires make me look pale."

I looked up.

Hayden stood there. She was wearing a trench coat cinched tight, her hair windblown and wild. She looked manic, vibrating with a frantic energy.

Emilio stood up so fast his chair tipped over with a heavy thud. "Hayden? What are you doing here?"

"I followed you," she said, stalking to the table. She picked up the wine glass-my glass-and took a long, deliberate sip. "Did you really think I'd let you fly halfway around the world to beg her to come back?"

"I'm fixing this!" Emilio pleaded, his hands raised in surrender. "I'm doing this for us! If she divorces me now, the stock will tank again!"

I laughed. I couldn't help it. It started as a chuckle deep in my chest and broke out into a full-blown laugh.

"So that's it," I said, wiping a tear from my eye. "It's not love. It's stock prices."

Hayden looked at me with pure venom, her lips stained red from my wine. "Shut up. You think you're so special? He doesn't want you. He just needs your signature on the asset waiver."

"Hayden, stop!" Emilio grabbed her arm.

She shook him off violently. "Tell her, Emilio! Tell her how you planned this dinner! You asked me what music she liked because you couldn't remember! You asked me what wine she drank!"

I looked at Emilio. The blood had drained from his face, leaving him ashen.

"Is that true?" I asked.

He didn't answer. His silence was a confession.

"You let your mistress plan your apology dinner for your wife," I said, my voice quiet, trembling with disgust. "You are pathetic."

"I did it to save the family!" Emilio shouted, slamming his hand on the table. The cutlery rattled, drawing the eyes of every diner in the room. "Why does no one understand? I am carrying the weight of the world on my back!"

"You're not carrying anything," I said, standing up. I felt lighter than I had in years. "You're just dragging us all down with you."

I picked up the velvet box. I opened it. The sapphire glittered in the candlelight-a beautiful, hollow stone.

"Keep it," I said to Hayden. "It suits you. It's cold, hard, and bought with stolen money."

I tossed the box into her lap.

"I'm leaving," I said. "And Emilio? Don't send the papers. My lawyer will serve you in the morning."

I walked away. Behind me, I heard the sound of glass shattering and Hayden screaming.

"You ruin everything!" she shrieked.

I didn't turn back. I walked out into the Swiss night, and for the first time, the biting cold on my skin felt like freedom.