Part 4 — My Husband Left Me a Wedding Invitation at the Office and Told Me Everything Was Over — But He Turned Pale When He Saw My Smile

After Robert’s words, such silence fell over the room that even the thin hum of the air conditioner could be heard.

“How much?” I asked.

“Everything that was in the account.”

There was no sign of victory left on Alexander’s face.

“I did not do this.”

“But they used your credentials,” I told him.

Chloe stepped back. Her leather bag was lying on the floor, its zipper half open.

“Alexander, tell me this is impossible.”

“Both of you, be quiet!”

Then I realized that his anger was weaker than his fear.

Robert urgently called the financial supervision service. He explained that we had an audio recording, statements of the transfers, and proof of the violation of the contract.

Alexander took out his phone and called someone.

“David, stop all transfers immediately.”

He listened for several seconds.

“No, my friend, this is an order.”

Panic entered his voice for the first time.

After ending the call, he dialed a second number. The lawyer answered, but Alexander managed to say only two sentences.

“You have to cancel the marriage registration. And these documents have to disappear.”

His face changed as he listened to the answer.

“What do you mean, you are no longer working with the client?”

Robert told me in the room:

“He refused. He said that because of a conflict of interest and the risk of criminal prosecution, he could no longer continue the case against you.”

Alexander threw the phone onto the bed.

“You prepared all this in advance.”

“No,” I answered. “You prepared it. I simply stopped closing my eyes.”

In the morning, the board meeting was held in the hotel conference hall. Outside the windows, the city was still gray, while glasses filled with water stood next to one another on the table.

Alexander arrived late. He was wearing a jacket, but no tie. Chloe followed him, and with every step the heels of her shoes struck the floor sharply.

The chairman of the board looked through the documents.

“Catherine is entitled to the controlling voting right under the active agreement,” he said. “Until the audit is completed, the authority of the chief executive officer is suspended.”

Alexander leaned on the table.

“This is my company.”

“No,” I said. “This company survived with the money that came from my father. You only promised that you would protect it.”

“I saved you.”

“You bought help. Then you thought you had bought my silence too.”

Robert played the recording.

Alexander’s own voice sounded in the room.

“Transfer the money. If anyone asks, we will say that Catherine approved it.”

Alexander did not move at first.

The words he had heard seemed to empty his body from the inside. He slowly raised his head and looked toward me.

“You recorded this?”

“No. You said it yourself.”

Chloe lowered her eyes.

“I did not know that you were planning to do this in your name.”

“You knew,” I told her. “You have your signature on every transfer.”

She had no answer anymore.

A few minutes later, security officers entered. An investigation against Alexander began for embezzlement of funds, forged documents, and an attempt to destroy evidence. Chloe gave testimony to lessen her responsibility.

I was not happy to look at their frightened faces.

I simply felt that for the first time I was no longer locked in the room.

That same evening I went to the penthouse.

There were almost none of my things left in the bedroom. Alexander had taken everything he needed to begin a new life. Only one empty hanger remained in the wardrobe.

And on the table lay my old copper luggage tag. My father had given it to me three years earlier for traveling. My initials were engraved on it, and it had a small scratch on the edge — it had appeared on the day Alexander first handed me his agreement.

I picked up the tag.

Then I realized how many times I had held this object while convincing myself that everything was temporary.

Now it was truly over.

Three months later, my father’s company started operating again. The audit revealed the complete route of the transfers. Part of the money was returned, while the remaining obligations were imposed on Alexander’s property.

I became the chief executive officer.

In the first weeks, I woke up at five in the morning. The office was still silent when I arrived. I planted new basil in the small pot standing by the window, and I no longer let the employees burn the coffee — I prepared it myself.

Sometimes my father’s grandson, little Nika, came to me. He drew trucks with pencils and added the sun to every drawing.

One evening he asked me:

“Aunt Catherine, are you the boss now?”

“Yes.”

“Then no one will tell you where you have to go anymore?”

I smiled at him.

“No one.”

The first snow came in December. Nika drew a small house on the window with his finger. Below it, he drew four people holding hands with one another.

“This is your house,” he told me.

That night I received a message from Alexander.

“Come, let us start everything over. You also know that we cannot endure without each other.”

I looked at the screen for a long time.

Then I wrote only one sentence.

“I have already started over.”

No answer came from him.

Several weeks later, the court officially annulled our marriage. Alexander’s case was still ongoing, while Chloe moved to another city. I never contacted either of them again.

One morning, all the windows in the office were open. The smell of wet asphalt came in from the street. Nika’s new drawing lay on my desk, and the chart of the company’s first successful shipment hung on the wall.

I did not keep the copper luggage tag in the drawer anymore.

I attached it to the handle of my bag.

Now, whenever I go somewhere, it lightly touches the leather and makes a small sound — as if reminding me that I chose the road myself.

That day I opened Alexander’s wedding invitation in the hotel room.

Today I listen to my luggage tag.

And I go.