Part 4 — I saw my husband in the role of groom at the wedding of a former classmate, but when he noticed me among the guests, the color drained from his face

Dmitri pronounced these words as if he were reading a weather forecast.

But this time the hall no longer belonged to him.

Niko immediately took out his phone.

“Everyone stay where you are. Security is controlling the exits.”

Dmitri laughed.

“You are a lawyer, Beridze. You cannot give security orders.”

“But you could not read the badges of the people standing outside the door,” Niko replied.

The main door opened.

Employees from Mauricio’s team entered, in plain clothes, but with a gaze that no one could confuse with wedding guests.

Dmitri put the phone in his pocket.

“This is an illegal intrusion.”

“No,” I said. “This is a delayed response to your intrusion into my life.”

Alejandro came to me.

“Gabriela, listen to me. My father planned everything. I was only trying to protect myself.”

“You gave my house to her.”

“I was forced to.”

“You signed in my name.”

“They would have killed my family.”

“And therefore you sacrificed my life?”

His face became tense.

“I was doing this to save you.”

It was the cruelest lie I heard that day, because for several years I too had believed that Alejandro always stood on my side.

Mauricio put a hand on my shoulder.

“Gabriela, you have to leave here now.”

“No. First everyone must hear.”

I played the recording again.

Alejandro’s face appeared on the screen. It was already another day, several weeks after my work trip. He was standing in his father’s office. Dmitri was sitting by the window.

“If you do not sign, we will freeze her accounts,” Dmitri was saying.

“She will return.”

“If she returns, she must think that you abandoned her. That way she will ask fewer questions.”

Alejandro lowered his head.

“Including Valeria in the wedding is excessive.”

“No. People will need a new story. Your wife disappeared, and you started over.”

“I cannot do it.”

“You already did. You are even wearing the watch.”

A heavy silence descended over the hall.

Alejandro heard his own voice and seemed to understand for the first time what he was saying. He leaned against a chair.

“Turn it off,” he whispered.

I did not turn it off.

In the recording Dmitri asked:

“And what if Gabriela returns?”

Alejandro answered:

“Then I will tell her that everything is her fault. That her job took her family away. She always blames herself.”

This time Valeria looked at him.

“You knew that you would tell her this?”

Alejandro closed his eyes.

“Valeria…”

“No. Do not say my name to me anymore.”

She dropped the wedding bouquet onto the floor. Water came out of the white flowers and scattered in small drops across the marble.

Dmitri tried to retreat, but two employees were standing by the door.

“You are not under arrest,” Mauricio told him. “But you will come with us for questioning now.”

“My lawyer is here.”

Dmitri looked at the man standing in the right corner of the hall.

The man who had stood beside him throughout the entire ceremony slowly approached.

“Mr. Rivas, I am no longer your lawyer.”

Real panic appeared on Dmitri’s face for the first time.

“What are you saying?”

“I received information about the source of the money I received from you. Your defense has become impossible.”

Dmitri raised his hand, but the employee calmly seized his wrist.

And Alejandro stood in place.

He did not run away.

He did not try to stop me either.

He was only looking at the watch.

“I bought this watch for you,” I said.

“I know.”

“No. You do not know. That night I spent all my savings. I had the inscription engraved on the back because I believed we had left the difficult years behind us.”

“I believed that too.”

“Then why did you destroy it?”

He could not find an answer.

It was the first honest answer I had ever received from him.

That same evening we went to the police.

Dmitri was taken to a separate room. Alejandro was questioned in my presence. With every question his voice sank lower.

“When did you decide to transfer the property?” the investigator asked.

“My father suggested it.”

“Did you sign?”

“Yes.”

“Without your wife’s permission?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know this was a crime?”

Alejandro was silent for a long time.

“Yes.”

I sat on the other side of the room and listened to his answers. It was strange when a person who had lain beside me for years exposed his own life in one word.

The next morning I opened the door of my house.

The living room was still the same, but the silence I had believed was ours no longer belonged to me.

The photographs left by Valeria lay on the table. In one of them she was standing on my terrace, holding a brown cup. On the back, in Alejandro’s handwriting, was written: “Our first morning.”

I put the photograph in the trash bin.

Then I entered the bedroom.

Half of Alejandro’s clothes were gone from the wardrobe. Only one empty hanger remained, and beneath it on the floor lay the small box for the watch.

The watch was not there.

He had not returned it to me.

Instead, three days later it was sent to me in an envelope. Alejandro had handed it to the investigator.

Inside was a small letter.

“I do not know how to fix this.”

I folded the letter and put it in the folder.

I did not answer.

The case continued for several months. Dmitri’s accounts were frozen. The illegal agreements were annulled. My house and savings were declared protected property until the court’s decision. Alejandro confessed to the crime and began cooperating with the investigation.

I did not attend a single hearing where my presence was not necessary.

I did not want to watch him being punished.

I wanted to get my own life back.

Four months later I moved to a new city. I rented a small apartment by the river. In the morning I opened the window, made strong coffee, and always put two pens in my work bag—one for me, and one in case someone needed my help.

My life was still connected with security, but now for the first time I had an office whose address I knew myself.

On Sundays I visited my sister, Elene. One day her seven-year-old son, Sandro, sat down on the floor and drew a house on a sheet of paper.

“Is this your house?” I asked.

“No, ours.”

“Who lives inside?”

He drew three figures with a red pencil.

“Me, Mother, and you.”

“There is no one else here?”

Sandro shook his head.

“Only the person you are not afraid of should be in the house.”

His words struck me more strongly than any sentence.

That night I took the watch in my hand.

Dmitri had tried to erase its inscription, but the words could still be read. “After everything” was visible only halfway.

The following week I received a message from Alejandro.

“I want to talk to you face to face at least once. I will not ask you for anything anymore. Only listen to me.”

I put the phone on the table.

The next day another letter arrived.

“Valeria found out everything too. She annulled the marriage. My father is awaiting trial. Every day I think about what I did.”

I did not open the third letter.

In reply I sent only one sentence:

“Carrying the consequences of your actions is your responsibility now.”

I did not need to block him.

I simply stopped answering.

In winter, snow fell for the first time. White flakes fell onto the surface of the river, while I stood by the window and watched the city change silently.

I received a new assignment at work. I taught young employees how to notice a lie before it turned into a threat.

One of the girls asked me:

“How did you realize that your husband was lying to you?”

I looked toward the window.

“I did not realize it then,” I answered. “But I realized it when I stopped blaming myself.”

When I returned home in the evening, I put the watch in a small wooden box. I no longer wanted to wear it, but I could not throw it away either. This object was no longer proof of our love.

It became a witness to my survival.

Several weeks later, one morning, I found a small package at the door. Alejandro’s handwriting was on it.

Inside was a photograph from my wedding.

On the back was written: “If you ever can, forgive me.”

I held the photograph in my hand for a long time.

Then I tore the paper, put the photograph in an empty envelope, and returned it to the mailbox.

I wrote nothing else to him.

That same evening I attached Sandro’s drawing to the refrigerator. The house had three windows. Not one door was locked.

I placed the wooden box on the windowsill.

The dark green dial of the watch slowly glowed in the light of the snow. The remaining words on the back were barely readable.

I ran my finger over the inscription.

“After everything.”

This time those words no longer belonged to Alejandro.

I survived.