After making sure Daniel’s car left, Alina returned to the mansion and sat in her quiet room. Staring at her open wardrobe. Rows of expensive gowns hung neatly—all chosen by Margaret, all in “appropriate” colors for a Mrs. Blackwood. Cream, navy, gray, black.

Never red. Never bold.

“Alina?”

A familiar voice made Alina turn. Emma stood in the doorway with two cups of coffee and a face full of concern.

“Mrs. Helen let me in. She said you needed a friend.” Emma entered and closed the door. “And since you didn’t answer my calls, I knew you really did.”

Alina smiled weakly. “Thank you for coming.”

Emma set down the coffee on the table and immediately hugged Alina tightly. “You look devastated. What happened?”

Alina nodded, her throat tight. “I told Daniel I want a divorce.”

Emma drew a sharp breath, hugging Alina tighter. “Oh Alina… are you serious? You finally said it?”

“I couldn’t take it anymore.” Alina’s voice trembled. “He came home smelling of Clarissa’s perfume with lipstick on his collar. On our anniversary. And he didn’t even ask me to stay.”

“Bastard,” Emma hissed. “Five years and he still can’t say he wants you?”

“Because he doesn’t want me.” Alina’s voice was quiet but there were no more tears. She was done crying. “I’m tired of hoping.”

Emma rubbed Alina’s back. “My apartment is always open. Whenever you’re ready—”

“After tonight.” Alina looked at her wardrobe. “After I finish playing the role of Mrs. Blackwood one last time.”

Emma followed Alina’s gaze to the closet. “Which one will you wear?”

Alina reached for a dress in the very back corner—the only dress she’d bought herself without Margaret’s approval. A midnight blue gown that was elegant but daring, with a cut that highlighted her curves. Not a “good wife” dress. A dress for a woman who knew her worth.

“This one,” Alina said in a stronger voice. “If this is my last appearance, I’ll do it my way.”

Emma smiled—a proud smile. “That’s my girl.”

At five in the afternoon, after picking up Daniel Jr. from school, Alina stood in front of the mirror. The midnight blue gown fit perfectly, her hair styled in soft waves falling on her shoulders, makeup bolder than usual with a statement red lipstick.

She looked different. Not the perfect, muted Mrs. Daniel Blackwood. But Alina Hayes—the woman she’d forgotten for five years.

A knock at the door. “Mama? Can I come in?”

“Come in, sweetheart.”

Daniel Jr. entered in his little tuxedo that Mrs. Helen had already straightened. His brown eyes widened seeing Alina.

“Mama looks so beautiful!” Junior ran to hug her. “Like a princess!”

Alina knelt down, hugging the child tightly. “Junior looks so handsome too. Like a little prince.”

“At the party, Papa will definitely say Mama is beautiful!” Junior smiled innocently. “Then Papa and Mama will dance like on TV!”

Alina’s heart sank. How could she tell this child that tonight might be the last time they’d be a “family”?

“Junior, sweetheart…” Alina stroked the child’s cheek. “Tonight there will be a lot of people. And there might be things that will confuse Junior. But Mama wants Junior to remember—whatever happens, Mama loves Junior. Always.”

Junior looked at her with innocent eyes. “Why is Mama talking sadly?”

“Mama’s not sad. Mama just wants to make sure Junior knows.”

A louder knock at the door. Without waiting for an answer, the door opened and Daniel entered—stopping when he saw Alina.

For a few seconds, the man just stared. There was something in his eyes—surprise? Appreciation? But it quickly disappeared, replaced by the cold mask he usually wore.

“We need to leave in fifteen minutes,” Daniel said, his voice formal. “Mom is already waiting at the venue.”

“Papa! Look at Mama! Mama’s beautiful, right?” Junior jumped up and down.

Daniel glanced at Alina briefly. “Yes. Beautiful.”

Two words without emotion. Like complimenting furniture.

Alina stood, taking her clutch. “I’m ready.”

Daniel still stood in the doorway, his hands in his pockets—a gesture showing he was uncomfortable.

“Alina, about this morning… we can talk after this event—”

“There’s nothing left to talk about, Daniel.” Alina walked past him toward the door. “Come on, Junior. Time to go.”

Daniel stared at Alina’s back—a gaze that lasted longer than usual. In his hand was a small velvet box he hadn’t managed to give.

The black Rolls Royce glided smoothly through the streets toward the Plaza Hotel where the gala dinner was being held. Alina sat in the back with Junior, who was excitedly looking out the window, while Daniel sat in front—as usual, separate.

“Mama, is this party like Cinderella’s?” Junior asked with sparkling eyes.

“Something like that, sweetheart.”

“Then Mama and Papa will dance? Can I watch?”

Alina smiled despite her aching heart. “We’ll see later, okay?”

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