Chapter 5 - The Green Door ClosesBy midnight, the grand ballroom was completely empty.
The glittering chandeliers still cast their brilliant light down on the imported marble floors, but the champagne towers were melting, the caviar was untouched, and the only sound echoing through the cavernous estate was the heavy, labored breathing of a defeated man.
Nathan sat slumped on the bottom step of the grand staircase, his expensive Tom Ford jacket wrinkled, his tie loosened so far it looked like a noose he couldn't quite tie correctly. His phone buzzed incessantly in his lap—text messages from board members, foreclosure alerts from his commercial lenders, and panicked notifications from his personal bankers informing him that his credit cards had been declined.
I stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at him. My hand rested on my stomach, feeling the steady, rhythmic pulse of my daughter kicking against the fabric of my dress.
"You ruined me," Nathan whispered, his voice cracked and hollow, devoid of any of the smug arrogance he had worn like armor just hours ago. He didn't look up. "Evelyn... twenty years of building my reputation. Gone. Just like that."
"You didn't build it, Nathan," I said softly, walking down the stairs step by step until I stood right above him. "You inherited the foundation, and you spent every waking minute trying to undermine the person who kept it standing."
He raised his head then. His eyes were bloodshot, desperate, and pathetic. "What about our child? Don't you care that she’s going to grow up with a ruined father?"
"My daughter is going to grow up knowing exactly who her mother is," I replied, my voice hard as diamond. "And she is never going to look at a man who thinks he can replace her worth with a can of pale green paint and a brass plaque."
I turned away from him, walking down the hall toward the front entrance where Margaret stood holding my coat.
"Is the car ready, Margaret?" I asked.
"Waiting outside, Evelyn," Margaret said, holding the heavy oak front door open.
As I stepped out into the crisp night air, I looked back one last time. Nathan was still sitting on the stairs, staring blankly at the empty hallway.
Upstairs, down the long corridor, the pale green nursery door sat locked and tightly shut. The gold stars on the ceiling would shine down on an empty room, and the brass plaque bearing Sloane’s name would remain hanging on a door that led to nowhere.
May you like
He had built a monument to his betrayal.
And now, he was the only one left inside to live with it.
