Chapter 14 - The Slip of the Tongue
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I left the gallery feeling a strange, hollow detachment. The depth of Richard’s sociopathy was staggering. He had constructed two entirely separate realities, managing the logistics, the finances, and the emotions of two different women without ever dropping a single ball. Until now.
I returned to the brownstone just as the sun began to set. Richard was scheduled to return from his fake Chicago trip in two hours.
I walked upstairs to Stella’s room. She was sitting on the floor, playing with her dolls. She looked up and smiled, completely innocent and untouched by the hurricane about to tear our lives apart.
“Hi, Mommy,” Stella chirped. “Is Daddy coming home tonight?”
“He is, sweetie,” I said, kneeling down and brushing a curl from her forehead. “But Mommy and Daddy are going to be having some very important grown-up conversations tomorrow. So, you and I are going to go on a special trip to Grandma’s house in the morning.”
Stella’s eyes lit up. “Can we bring my new coloring book?”
“You can bring whatever you want,” I promised, kissing her cheek.
I packed two suitcases, loading them into the trunk of my car in the garage. I ensured every trace of my preparation was completely invisible.
At 7:30 PM, the front door unlocked.
Richard walked in, dropping his garment bag in the foyer. He looked exhausted, rubbing his temples, wearing the exact same expression he had used hundreds of times before to solicit my sympathy.
“Chicago was a nightmare, Vic,” Richard groaned, walking into the kitchen and wrapping his arms around me from behind, kissing my neck. “The zoning board is driving me insane. I missed you.”
I stood perfectly still, letting him hold me. The smell of Evelyn’s perfume was faint, but unmistakable beneath his cologne. He had literally walked out of her bed and straight into my kitchen.
“I’m glad you’re home, Richard,” I said, pulling away smoothly to hand him a glass of water. “You must be exhausted. You should get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a very big day.”
“Just another Tuesday in the trenches,” Richard sighed, taking the water.
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He didn't notice the coldness in my eyes. He didn't notice that his favorite watch was missing from his nightstand, or that my jewelry box had been emptied. He was too arrogant, too comfortable in his kingdom of lies, to see the guillotine hanging directly over his neck.
“Sleep well, Richard,” I whispered as he walked up the stairs. “You’re going to need it.”
