Chapter 12 - The Anniversary Gift
October 18.
I woke up at five o'clock in the morning to the sound of rain tapping against the hotel window.
I dressed with extreme care. I chose a sleek, tailored dark green wool coat, a black turtleneck sweater, and simple leather boots. I did not wear my wedding ring. I placed it neatly on the nightstand beside the hotel room keycard.
At 8:00 AM, my phone rang. It was Evelyn Reed.
"Everything is in position, Clara," Evelyn said calmly. "My process server is waiting in the lobby of Riverfront Place. The private security team has secured access to the building's residential hall camera feed via the building management's legal subpoena."
"Thank you, Evelyn," I said. "I’m on my way."
I walked three blocks through the rain, holding a black umbrella against the cold wind. The city was just waking up; coffee shops were turning on their neon signs, street sweepers were clearing fallen leaves from the gutters, and morning commuters were scurrying into subway entrances.
I entered the grand glass lobby of Riverfront Place at 8:30 AM.
A tall, sharp-featured man in a grey suit stepped forward from the lounge area. "Mrs. Hale? I’m David, Ms. Reed’s process server."
"Good morning, David," I said, my voice completely steady.
We took the elevator up to the fourth floor in silence. The brass indicator lights clicked softly as we ascended: 1... 2... 3... 4.
The doors slid open to a wide, carpeted hallway lined with brushed-aluminum sconces and oak-paneled apartment doors.
We walked down the hall to Unit 402.
Outside the door, set on the polished stone floor, sat a small wooden crate from an elite local florist. Inside the crate lay two dozen long-stemmed white roses, accompanied by a bottle of vintage French champagne and a high-end bakery box tied with red twine.
Sticking out from the top of the rose bouquet was a card printed in elegant cursive script:
Happy 1 Year, Elena.
I looked down at that card for a long, quiet moment.
The cycle was complete. From April 18 at Bellamy’s to October 18 at Riverfront Place. The two mousses, the two lemon tarts, the white roses, the champagne. The meticulous, beautiful geometry of a man who believed he had calculated every risk and eliminated every variable.
I took the white envelope from my coat pocket, slid the thermal receipt out, and tucked it directly into the center of the white rose bouquet, right beside the anniversary card.
May you like
Then, I nodded to David.
David stepped up to the door, raised his hand, and knocked four times—loud, heavy, authoritative thuds that echoed down the quiet hallway.
