He wrapped his arm around Claire and led her away.
I stood there, watching him walk off with another woman while I bled right in front of him.
At that moment, my phone vibrated. A message from Leon.
[I’ve finalised the plan. Tomorrow, go to the Thames bridge. I’ll take care of the rest.]
The message was like a breath of fresh air. Soon… I’ll be free of Archie’s life. Somehow.
The next morning, Archie still hadn’t come home.
I packed my things—all the designer dresses, jewellery, and gifts he had given me—and tossed them into a suitcase. Then, I retrieved our marriage certificate, the one I had once cherished so dearly, and ripped it apart. I let the pieces fall into the sink, set them alight, and watched them burn to ash.
As the last embers flickered, my phone vibrated again. A message from Archie.
[Wendy, I’ve booked the venue for our wedding celebration. My assistant will pick you up shortly.]
I stared at the message. Then, out of curiosity, I opened social media.
Claire had posted a photo.
She and Archie sat at a restaurant—the same one where our wedding celebration was supposed to be planned—holding hands across the table. Zac was in a stroller beside them, fast asleep.
My heart no longer ached.
I didn’t reply to Archie’s message. Instead, I took the signed divorce papers and handed them to a courier, instructing them to deliver them directly to the banquet.
Once everything was set, I called Leon.
"I’m ready."
Taking my Mini Cooper’s keys from the dressing table, I drove towards the Thames bridge.
In the car, parked not far from the bridge, I watched them on the small dashboard screen.
Archie was in the VIP lounge with Claire and Zac, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
So, this is what waiting for me looks like, is it, Archie?
I glanced down at my phone. Dozens of missed calls from him.
Oh, so now you’re desperate?
With Leon’s help, I had hacked into the restaurant’s CCTV. I’d also paid off a waiter to plant a listening device in their room. Now, I saw and heard everything perfectly.
The VIP room door burst open. Thomas, Archie’s assistant, rushed in, breathless and pale.
"Sir, Mrs Knight isn’t in the penthouse."
Archie’s brows knitted. "What do you mean?"
Thomas swallowed and placed a medium-sized box on the table. "I… I found this in the courtyard. Alongside some burnt remains that were still fresh."