His Mistress Killed Our Baby

I found him three days later.

The bar was called something pretentious. Altitude, maybe. Or Apex. They all had names like that — words that meant high up, untouchable. It sat on top of a converted warehouse in the Meatpacking District, all exposed brick and Edison bulbs and bartenders who looked like models.

I'd never been here before. But I knew Lennox came here. I'd seen the charges on our joint credit card. Every Thursday. Sometimes Fridays too.

I stood in the doorway holding the divorce papers. They were bound in a blue folder, official and final. Kingston's lawyers had worked fast. All that was left was Lennox's signature on the last page.

The bar was loud. Music pounded through speakers I couldn't see. Voices layered over each other until they became just noise. I tilted my head right, trying to pick out individual words.

Then I saw him.

He sat at a corner table surrounded by five or six people. I recognized most of them. Dominic Reyes. Marcus Chen from the hedge fund. A couple of others whose names I'd forgotten. Jolene wasn't there yet.

Lennox had his sleeves rolled up. His tie was loose. He looked relaxed in a way I hadn't seen in years. He was laughing at something Marcus said.

I stayed in the doorway. No one had noticed me yet.

Dominic leaned back in his chair, drink in hand. He said something I couldn't hear from this distance. The whole table laughed.

Then Dominic's voice rose, cutting through the noise.

"She actually went *deaf* saving you?" He shook his head, grinning. "That's pathetic."

The laughter got louder.

Lennox didn't correct him. He just smiled and took a drink.

Marcus leaned forward. "Wait, seriously? She lost her hearing pulling him out of that car?"

"Left ear," Dominic said. "Completely gone. And now she does this—" He tilted his head to the side in an exaggerated way, mouth hanging open slightly. The table erupted.

I stood very still.

Lennox was laughing now too. Not politely. Really laughing, head thrown back, one hand on the table.

"She does do that," he said when he caught his breath. "Every single conversation. It's like talking to a confused puppy."

More laughter.

I felt nothing. That hollow space in my chest had spread until it filled everything.

The elevator doors opened behind me. Heels clicked across the floor.

Jolene walked past me without a glance. She wore black tonight. Her hair was pulled back. She looked like she owned the place.

She walked straight to Lennox's table. He saw her coming and stood. She didn't slow down. She wrapped both arms around his neck and kissed him.

Not a polite kiss. Not a friendly one.

The kind of kiss that made a claim.

The table cheered. Someone whistled. Dominic raised his glass.

Jolene pulled back just enough to smile at Lennox. Then she kissed him again, deeper this time, her fingers in his hair.

I watched.

When they finally broke apart, Jolene slid into the seat beside him. Lennox's arm went around her shoulders automatically. She leaned into him like she'd always been there.

Dominic was still grinning. He glanced toward the bar, scanning for a waitress.

Then he saw me.

His grin widened.

"Well, well." He raised his voice. "Look who decided to show up."

The table went quiet. Heads turned.

Lennox's arm slipped off Jolene's shoulders. His expression didn't change, but something tightened around his eyes.

I didn't move.

Dominic stood, swaying slightly. "Mrs. Hawkins! Come join us. We were just talking about you."

"Sit down," Lennox said quietly.

Dominic ignored him. He took a step toward me. "What's wrong? Can't hear me?" He cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. "I SAID WE WERE TALKING ABOUT YOU."

Someone at the table snickered.

I looked at Dominic. Then past him, at Lennox.

Jolene had her hand on his arm now. Possessive. Comfortable.

I stepped into the bar.

There was a high-top table near the entrance. Three empty glasses sat on it beside a half-full bottle of whiskey. I walked over, set the divorce papers down, and picked up the bottle.

It was heavier than I expected.

I walked to the bar and swung the bottle down against the edge.

The crack was sharp and clean. Glass exploded across the polished wood. Amber liquid splashed onto the floor. The music kept playing, but every conversation in the room cut off.

I set what was left of the bottle down carefully. Then I turned and walked to Lennox's table.

No one moved.

I placed the blue folder in front of him. It landed with a soft thump.

Lennox stared at it. Then at me.

I didn't say anything. There was nothing left to say.

I looked at him for one more second. At Jolene's hand still on his arm. At the faces around the table.

Then I turned and walked back toward the door.

Behind me, the silence held.

I didn't look back.