ths-HE INVITED HIS “BROKE” EX-WIFE TO WATCH HIM MARRY HER BEST FRIEND—BUT SHE ARRIVED ON A PRIVATE JET WITH HIS TWINS, AND THE SECOND HIS OLD BRIEFCASE APPEARED, THE BRIDE …

— Tonight? Are you going to present it tonight?

No more waiting. No more hiding. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it right.

— Great. It was about time.

They cleaned the kitchen together. They stored the evidence in a safe place. They hung the invitation on the refrigerator with a magnet. A reminder. A challenge.

As Diana was leaving, she turned around.

Rebecca.

— Try?

I’m proud of you. You know that, right?

— For what reason?

— For surviving. For fighting back. For remembering who you are.

Diana left. The door closed behind her. Rebecca remained in her silent apartment, alone again. But this time, the silence felt different. Not empty, not suffocating. Intentional. Calm.

The invitation was still on hold. June 15th. Two months to prepare, plan, transform. Two months for Garrett to think he had won.

And then she would show him exactly how wrong he was.

I wasn’t the problem. I know that now. But back then, I believed every word he said.

—

Part 2: The Meeting

Nineteen hours arrived sooner than Rebecca expected. She spent the afternoon cleaning. Not because the apartment was dirty, but because when everything seemed out of control, cleaning helped. She scrubbed the bathroom, vacuumed the living room, organized the twins’ closet. Red shirt, blue shirt, red shirt, blue shirt. Fold, stack, repeat. The repetitive movement calmed her racing thoughts.

At 6:45 p.m., she looked at herself in the mirror. Jeans, a soft blue blouse, hair loose, minimal makeup. Normal. She didn’t feel normal.

The cell phone vibrated.

Juliano: *Parking. I’ll be right up.*

Her heart raced. She pressed a hand to her chest. She breathed. It was Juliano. Gentle Juliano. Patient Juliano. There was nothing to worry about.

The doorbell rang. She opened it.

He was there. Casual clothes, dark jeans, a simple shirt. He could have been anyone, except for his eyes. Those eyes that saw her.

“Hi,” he said softly.

– Hey.

They stood there, awkward as teenagers. He held up a bottle of wine.

— I brought this. I hope everything is alright. I didn’t know what…

She pulled him inside and kissed him forcefully. He put down his wine, grabbed her, and kissed her back. When they finally parted, they were both breathing heavily.

“Hi,” she said again.

He laughed, that warm, genuine laugh that made his chest ache.

Hi, you.

They retrieved the bottle of wine, miraculously intact, and went to the kitchen. Rebecca poured two glasses. Her hand trembled slightly.

“She’s nervous,” Juliano observed.

— Yes.