Teach Me How To Forget You

Danielle's POV: ‎From where I stood near the long glass windows overlooking the ocean, I could see ‎the last rays of the California sun melting into the horizon while a string quartet ‎played something low and romantic. ‎It was perfect! Every detail was exactly the way I’d imagined it. ‎I brushed an invisible speck from my champagne-colored gown and exhaled slowly. ‎Tonight wasn’t just our third wedding anniversary. Tonight, I was going to change ‎everything between Barry and me. ‎For years, I had hidden who I really was. To the world and to my own husband I was ‎Danielle Jules, the quiet, supportive wife of a rising businessman. ‎In reality, I was Madam Ellele… the name whispered in boardrooms, the investor ‎who could make or break a company with a single call. And I had been his biggest ‎investor. The very reason his struggling start-up didn’t collapse two years ago. ‎And he never knew. ‎Not because I didn’t trust him, but because trust was dangerous in my world. My late ‎father had been a billionaire before enemies tore him apart. They accused him of ‎working with the mafia, dragged our family name through the mud, and left me with ‎a “slush fund” so tangled in dirty politics that exposing it could have landed me in ‎prison, or worse. ‎I told myself hiding my identity from Barry was protection for him and for me. ‎But tonight, that changed. ‎We’d toast to our anniversary, and then I’d tell him everything about my father, the ‎slush fund and about the fact that his mysterious benefactor had been sitting across from him at breakfast every morning for the past three years. ‎Sighing, I checked my phone. ‎8:02 p.m. ‎Barry was late. ‎I’d expected him to be running on “Barry time” — a few minutes behind, because he ‎always liked to “make an entrance” — but this wasn’t a casual dinner at home. ‎This was our night. ‎I tried calling him again. The phone rang until it clicked to voicemail. ‎“Barry, it’s me.” I began. “The dinner has started, please call me back.” I lowered my ‎voice so the nearby staff wouldn’t hear the tight edge creeping in. “Please.” ‎Hanging up, I smiled faintly at a passing waiter and pretended everything was fine. ‎Inside, irritation was starting to spark. ‎Maybe he’d gotten caught up at the office. Fine. But he could answer his damn ‎phone. ‎Ten minutes passed, then fifteen and my patience snapped. ‎I pulled my clutch closer. If he wanted to play this game, fine! I’d go get him myself, ‎drag him out of his precious meetings and plant him right in front of the oysters ‎Rockefeller I’d ordered. ‎But just as I stepped out into the hallway, my phone buzzed with a new message. ‎Unknown Number: Come to Suite 17 in the very same resort you planned your ‎anniversary dinner if you want to know what your husband’s been busy with these ‎past few days. CODE: 2378.I stopped dead. ‎This had to be some pathetic scam or a joke. Still… Suite 17 was on the other side ‎of the resort. And the timing tonight, of all nights, felt like a deliberate punch to the ‎gut. ‎I told myself to delete it and ignore it. But a dozen small moments from the last few ‎weeks flashed in my mind. Thoughts of Barry answering calls in the other room, ‎working late without results to show, pulling away when I touched him in bed, and ‎laughing at a text he wouldn’t let me see, filled my mind. ‎I should have gone straight to his office. Instead, I found myself heading for the ‎elevator. ‎When I reached the top floor, the corridor smelled faintly of expensive cologne and ‎gardenias. Suite numbers ticked upward until I stopped in front of 17. For a moment, ‎I just stood there, staring at the keypad with my hand hovering over the buttons. ‎“Danielle, don’t do this.” I whispered to myself. “Walk away.” ‎But my fingers moved anyway. ‎2… 3… 7… 8. ‎The light turned green then I pushed the door open. At first, I couldn’t process what I ‎was seeing. ‎A blonde haired and naked woman was straddling someone on the bed, her back to ‎me, her nails digging into his shoulders. The air was heavy with perfume and sweat, ‎and the slick sound of their genitals rubbing together sliced into my disbelief. ‎I shrieked subtly, but it was loud enough for her to hear. ‎She froze then turned her head slowly toward me, and when her gaze met mine, her ‎lips parted in a shrill scream.‎“Danielle?!” ‎My eyes widened. ‎Victoria Churchill? ‎Of all the people, her? The woman he used to pine over in college before she left ‎him for someone richer. The woman who’d suddenly reappeared in his life, ‎supposedly “just friends.” ‎She scrambled for a blanket, clutching it to her chest. Beneath her, the man pushed ‎her aside, and there he was—my husband. ‎Barry James. ‎His face went pale. ‎“Danielle, wait…” ‎“Wait?” My voice shook, partly from rage, partly from the betrayal slicing me open. ‎“This is what you’ve been doing instead of showing up for our anniversary?” ‎“It’s not…” He slid off the bed, yanking the sheet around his waist. “It’s not what it ‎looks like..” ‎“Oh, so you weren’t just inside your ex when I walked in? You weren’t about to make ‎me sit through a dinner while you…” I broke off, my voice rising dangerously. ‎Victoria stepped closer, her expression an infuriating mix of pity and triumph. ‎“Danielle, I think you should calm down..” ‎“Calm down?” I laughed. “You’re naked in my husband’s bed, and you think I should ‎calm down?”Barry held up his hands like I was some wild animal he needed to tame. “Baby, ‎please let me explain…” ‎“Explain? Oh, please, Barry, go ahead. Explain how you’re somehow the victim ‎here.” Without another word, I turned on my heel and stormed out. ‎ ‎