« You’re not a guest, » he said harshly. « At this party, I need people to serve. We’re short-staffed. »
He then threw me the hanger wearing a black servant’s uniform: white apron and headband included.
« Put this on. You’ll serve the drinks. It’s the only thing you know how to do, isn’t it? And one more thing… don’t tell anyone you’re my wife. You’re embarrassing me. Say you’re an hourly employee. »
I felt something break inside me. I wanted to shout at him that I could buy the company he worked for. That I could fire him with a single phone call. But I remained silent.
That was the final test.
« Very well, » I replied in a low voice.
As I went downstairs to the living room of our house in the 16th arrondissement of Paris, I saw a woman sitting comfortably on the sofa. It was Camille, his secretary: young, beautiful and self-assured.
But what took my breath away was what she was wearing.
My grandmother’s emerald necklace, a Morel family heirloom that had disappeared from my jewelry box this very morning.
« My love, does it suit me well? » asked Camille, stroking the necklace.
« It suits you perfectly, » replied Laurent before kissing her. « It flatters you far more than my wife, who has no style whatsoever. Tonight, you will be seated with me at the head table. I will introduce you as my companion. »
I turned away in silence. As I adjusted my apron in the kitchen, I felt my dignity being torn away, piece by piece… and now also a memory of my family.
They had no idea that this night would change everything.
