Part 4 — The Husband Took His Secretary on the Honeymoon, but When the Plane Landed, the Smile Suddenly Disappeared from His Face

But Alexander did not yet know that this was the last lie he would use against himself.

Daniel looked at the message and calmly asked me:

“Are you ready to hear his words to the end?”

I nodded.

At six o’clock in the evening Alexander arrived in New York. He went straight toward our house. The security camera recorded how he got out of the car, stood in front of the door for several seconds, and clenched his fingers into a fist.

I was inside.

But I no longer opened the doors for him.

Daniel’s lawyer had already sent a message that all of Alexander’s accounts had been temporarily suspended and that a court order prohibited him from entering my studio building.

Alexander called me.

“Sophia, open the door.”

“Talk to the lawyer.”

“This is my house.”

“No. This is the apartment whose rent I paid while you were forging signatures on my accounts.”

“You cannot throw me out.”

“I already did.”

Heavy footsteps sounded on the other side of the door.

“You do not know what awaits you,” he said.

“For the first time, I know exactly.”

The next morning Alexander called his lawyer. At the meeting, the lawyer, Robert, spread all the documents across the table and sat silently for a long time.

“Tell me that all of this is only a misunderstanding,” Alexander said, tapping the table with his fingers.

Robert raised his head.

“Your voice is here.”

“The recording may have been edited.”

“Here is the handwriting examination.”

“Sophia is doing this to take my money.”

“And this is your letter, where you write that her studio must pass to your company after the wedding.”

Alexander grabbed the document.

“You are my lawyer. Do something.”

Robert took off his glasses.

“I cannot defend a lie in court.”

“How much am I paying you?”

“I am withdrawing from this case.”

For the first time Alexander found himself in a room where money could not open the door.

That same evening, we checked all the recordings in Daniel’s office. The main audio file was saved on a small memory card. It had only the date and time written on it. I found it in the inner pocket of my wedding bag, where I usually kept lipstick.

Daniel played the audio again.

“Sofia is in love with me. She will not even read the contract.”

It was his own voice heard through someone else’s words. Alexander’s lawyer could not deny it. The expert confirmed that the recording was continuous.

Three days later Alexander’s hearing took place. I stood in the courtroom, holding a black folder against my chest. Chloe also appeared in the corridor. She was no longer wearing the white dress. A simple dark coat was wrapped around her, and she held the pearl charm in her hand.

“Sophia, may I talk to you?”

“Say it.”

“I will testify against you.”

Shame and fear alternated on her face.

“Why?”

“Because he forged documents about me too. He took out a loan in my name. I thought that when your studio fell into his hands, he would give me my share.”

“And now?”

“Now I know that for him every person is only a tool.”

I did not hug her. Nor did I begin comforting her. I simply told her:

“Tell the truth. I can no longer decide the rest.”

In court Alexander initially sat calmly. He was still wearing an expensive suit, but his collar was unfastened. The judge listened to the recording.

“After the wedding no one will ask when she signed it.”

Such silence fell over the room that I heard the low hum of the air conditioner.

Alexander raised his head.

“This has been taken out of context.”

The judge looked at him.

“Does the voice belong to you?”

He opened his mouth but could not answer.

Chloe testified. Daniel presented the transfers. Mariam explained the forgery of the signature. Finally they opened my wedding bag and took out the small memory card.

The whole time I was turning the wooden seagull in my palm. I had taken it out of the suitcase. It was the only thing I brought home from the airport.

The judge prohibited Alexander from leaving the court and finally froze his accounts. Later he was sentenced for fraud and document forgery. Chloe admitted her participation and received a lesser sentence for cooperating with the investigation. I was not happy.

When I left the courtroom, the first snow was falling outside.

Alexander’s company collapsed within several weeks. With Daniel’s help, I reopened my studio, this time in a small workshop on a quiet street in Brooklyn. Fabrics hung on the walls, a cup of coffee stood on the windowsill, and in the morning the smell of cinnamon from the neighboring bakery entered the studio instead of the sound of cars.

Six months later I showed sketches from the new collection to Nina, my little niece.

“Why is this woman not crying?” she asked me.

“Because she no longer needs to cry.”

“Is she happy?”

I went to the window. Snow was falling again.

“She is still learning, but soon she will be.”

Nina drew a small house on the paper. She placed a wooden seagull above the house.

“This is yours,” she told me. “So that you do not forget the way.”

That night I received a final letter from Alexander. It was from prison. Inside was only one sheet of paper.

“You can start everything over again. I have changed. I cannot endure without you.”

I looked at the letter for a long time. Earlier I would have immediately written a reply to such words. But now I was sitting at the small table in my studio, and for the first time I did not want to explain my peace to anyone.

Daniel called me.

“Would you like us to send a reply to the letter?”

“Yes.”

“What will you write?”

I took a sheet of paper.

“Your life is already in your hands. Mine is no longer.”

That was all.

Several weeks later I hung the wooden seagull at the studio door. In the morning, when the wind blew, its small wings swayed lightly and touched the bell.

Every time it reminded me of that airport. Those four seconds. That smile I put on when I was hurting most.

But now, when I saw it, I no longer felt pain.

I saw only the road.

The seagull rang.

I opened the door and met freedom.