I let her come up.
The elevator doors opened onto my floor, and she stepped out alone. No Ashley. No Ethan. Just Carol, dressed impeccably, holding a designer handbag like armor.
She took one step into my apartment and stopped.
The view hit her first. The glass walls. The city lights. The terrace that wrapped around the space like a promise. This was not the home of a helpless retiree.
“This is… very nice,” she said carefully.
I gestured toward the sofa. “Please, sit.”
She didn’t sit right away. She walked slowly through the living room, touching nothing, observing everything. When she finally turned back to me, the smile she offered was entirely different from the one she wore at the wedding.
Measured. Cautious.
“Stephanie,” she began, “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
I let a few seconds pass before responding.
“There was no misunderstanding,” I said calmly. “There
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