Monday came too quickly.
Elena woke up alone,Marcus had already left for Boston. No goodbye, no kiss, just a text sent at five AM: Flight’s early. See you Thursday.
Thursday. Three days of freedom. Three days when she didn’t have to pretend, didn’t have to smile, didn’t have to be the wife of a man who loved someone else.
She should have felt relieved. Instead, she felt empty.
Victoria called at noon. “He’s gone?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Get dressed. We’re going out.”
“Vic, I don’t…”
“I don’t care what you don’t feel like doing. You’ve been locked in that house for a week like a prisoner. You’re coming out with me, and that’s final.”
Elena wanted to argue, but she was too tired. “Where?”
“There’s a charity gala tonight. The Masquerade ball, very fancy, raises money for children’s hospitals
