Chapter 4: Mark
I barely made it to the bottom of the stairs before I saw Violetta dragging her suitcase toward the front door. For a moment, I simply stared at her because I had assumed the divorce papers were an emotional outburst rather than something she intended to act on. Yet there she was, moving through the foyer with a suitcase in her hand as though she had already decided that our marriage was finished. “Violetta, where are you going?”
She did not stop. “Away from you.”
I followed her across the foyer, still trying to understand what had happened to the woman who had spent years arranging her life around mine. “Don't be ridiculous. We need to talk about this.”
“We have talked enough.”
She reached for the door, and I caught up with her before she could open it. My eyes immediately went to her bare finger, and irritation replaced some of my confusion. She had actually taken the ring off. “At least put your ring back on,” I said.
She turned toward me with an expression I could not understand. “What?”
“Your wedding ring. Put it back on before you leave.” I glanced toward the driveway and then the road. “People are already talking. If someone sees you leaving without your ring, they'll assume the rumors are true.”
Her lips parted in disbelief before she gave a quiet, humorless laugh. “They are true.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, Mark. I don't.”
I lowered my voice as my frustration grew. “The situation is already out of control, and you walking out of here without your ring will make everything worse.”
“You should have thought about that before you gave people something to talk about.”
Her answer irritated me more than it should have. I had enough problems without my own wife deliberately making things worse. “This isn't about what happened between us anymore,” I told her. “It's about the damage being done to my career.”
She stared at me for a moment before shaking her head. “Everything is always about you.”
She opened the door and stepped outside. I followed her onto the driveway. “Where are you going?” She continued toward the gate without answering. “Violetta, I'm asking you where you're going.”
She finally turned around. “Somewhere you can't follow me.”
“You're acting like a child.”
“And you're acting like a man who still thinks he has the right to tell me what to do.”
Before I could answer, a car pulled up beside the curb. I watched the driver step out and walk around to open the rear door for her. Violetta placed her suitcase inside, climbed into the car, and closed the door without giving me another glance.
I stood there watching the car pull away, unable to shake the feeling that something about her departure was wrong. Violetta had always been emotional when we argued, but she had never looked at me the way she had this morning. There had been no pleading in her eyes and no hesitation, and for the first time, I wondered whether the divorce papers had been more than an attempt to frighten me. My phone began ringing before I could decide whether to follow her. I pulled it from my pocket and saw Nolan's name. “What?”
Nolan's voice came through immediately. “Sir, you need to come to the office.”
“I'll be there.”
“The board has already contacted several of the senior executives. Two investors are demanding an explanation, and there are reporters outside the building.”
I looked toward the road where Violetta's car had disappeared. “How did this get so bad so quickly?”
“I don't know, sir, but there are more posts appearing every few minutes. Someone has also started connecting your wife's family to the story.”
My jaw tightened. “Keep the reporters away from the staff entrance. I don't want anyone speaking to them without authorization.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Nolan?”
“Yes?”
“Find out who started this.”
“I'll do everything I can.”
I ended the call and stared at my phone. I wanted to go after Violetta, but the company could not wait for me to sort out a marital argument. The scandal was already threatening my position, and every minute I spent standing there was another minute for the rumors to spread. I turned back toward the house and stopped when I saw my mother-in-law standing in the foyer.
She looked as though she had been crying, but she still seemed remarkably composed considering what had happened. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and her eyes moved from me to the driveway before settling on my face. "Where is Violetta?” she asked.
“She left.”
Her expression changed. “Where did she go?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“She took a car and left.”
She looked toward the open door. “Did she tell you where she was going?”
I shook my head. “She threw divorce papers at me and walked out.”
My mother-in-law closed her eyes briefly, and for a moment I expected her to break down again. Instead, she took a slow breath and looked at me. “She has done this before.”
I frowned. “What?”
“When she becomes angry enough, she runs to her best friend.”
I stared at her.
“You remember that, don't you?” she asked. “Even before she married you, whenever she and someone close to her had a serious disagreement, she would go to her best friend's house until she calmed down. Sometimes she stayed for a day, sometimes longer, but she always came back.”
I thought about it, and memories of those arguments came back to me. There had been times when Violetta had refused to answer my calls after we fought, only to return once she had calmed down. I had never considered those incidents important because she had always come home eventually. “So you think that's where she went?”
“Where else would she go?”
I looked toward the driveway again. “She has no reason to leave permanently.”
My mother-in-law studied me. “She believes she has a reason now.”
“She'll calm down.”
“You're certain?”
“She has nowhere else to go.”
The words came out naturally because I had never had a reason to think otherwise. Violetta had built her life around our marriage. She had given up her career because she wanted to be with me, and for years she had been perfectly content managing our home and supporting my work. She could threaten to leave when she was angry, but eventually reality would force her to recognize what she would be giving up.
My mother-in-law remained quiet for a moment before asking, “Then what are you going to do?”
“I need to deal with the company first.”
“That is not what I meant.”
I looked at her.
“What are you going to do about Violetta?”
I glanced at the divorce papers still in my hand. “She'll come back.”
My mother-in-law's expression remained thoughtful. “Perhaps. But you should not make it too easy for her to stay away.”
“What do you mean?”
“She is angry now, and angry people make reckless decisions. If you chase after her and beg her to return, she will believe she has all the power.” I said nothing. “She needs to understand what she stands to lose,” my mother-in-law continued. “If she believes she can walk away from everything and still live comfortably, she will have no reason to reconsider.”
I looked down at the papers. Violetta had always believed that the life we built together belonged to both of us. She had never questioned her place in it, and I had never given her a reason to think about what would happen if the marriage ended. “She thinks she can take half of everything if I agree to this divorce,” I said.
My mother-in-law's eyes rested on me. “She has always believed the life you built together belongs to both of you."
I looked at her."But it doesn't."
There was a brief silence before she responded. “Then perhaps it is time she understood exactly how much of that life depends on you.”
Her words made sense. If Violetta truly intended to leave, I needed leverage. I could not allow her to disappear, tell everyone her version of the story, and then expect me to deal with the consequences while she walked away untouched. “What if she refuses to come back?” I asked.
“You don't need to force her to come back,” my mother-in-law replied. “You only need to make returning easier than staying away.”
I looked at her carefully. “And once she comes back?”
“Then you can convince her to make the statement.”
I understood immediately. We needed Violetta beside me, wearing her ring, appearing in public as my wife. If she stood beside me and denied the rumors, the scandal would lose much of its power. Investors would have fewer reasons to question my marriage, and the board would have less ammunition against me. “She won't agree willingly.”
“Then don't give her another option.”
I walked into the living room and dropped the divorce papers onto the table. The anger I had felt earlier was slowly giving way to something more deliberate. Violetta had spent years depending on me, and I knew exactly how much she had sacrificed to build our life together. She might believe that she could walk away because she was hurt, but she would eventually realize that the world outside this house was not waiting for her with open arms.
My mother-in-law followed me into the room. “What are you going to do now?”
I pulled out my phone. “First, I'll deal with the company. Then I'll make sure Violetta understands that this isn't as simple as packing a suitcase and leaving.”
“And the rumors?”
“I'll handle those too.”
I opened my messages and began sending instructions to Nolan. I wanted the public-relations team to prepare a response, but I did not want them confirming or denying anything until I decided how we would control the story. I also told him to find out exactly where the original information had come from because I still believed Violetta was responsible.
My mother-in-law watched me for a moment before speaking again. “Don't let her know you're worried because if she realizes you need her to protect your reputation, she will use it against you.”
I considered her words and nodded. “She'll come back.”
My mother-in-law gave me a faint smile. “She always does.”
I looked toward the front door and felt my confidence returning. Violetta had run to her best friend, just as she had done before whenever she became overwhelmed by an argument. She would stay there for a while, cry, talk about how badly I had hurt her, and eventually come home when she realized that she had nowhere else to build the life she had become accustomed to.
I had known her long enough to understand that.