Chapter 6 - The Broken Mirror
Richard sat in a cheap motel room on the outskirts of the city. The penthouse had been locked by court order, and his personal accounts were restricted to a bare minimum weekly allowance.
He looked at his reflection in the cracked bathroom mirror. His hair was greasy, his face unshaven, his eyes hollowed out by sleepless nights and cheap whiskey. He couldn't believe this was his life. Just a week ago, he was the king of Hawthorne Meridian, the celebrated philanthropist, the proud father of two boys.
Now, he was nothing.
He picked up his phone and dialed my number. To his surprise, I answered on the third ring.
"Lauren," he gasped, his voice cracking with emotion. "Lauren, please. You have to listen to me. I’m dying. I have nothing left. They took my company. They took my home. My mother won't even take my calls."
"I know, Richard," I said, my voice calm and soothing, like a nurse comforting a terminal patient. "I’m the one who suggested she block your number."
"Why?" he cried, tears streaming down his face. "Why are you doing this to me? I made mistakes, yes! I was unfaithful! But to destroy me like this? To take everything?"
"You didn't just make mistakes, Richard," I said. "You were cruel. Do you remember the day you came home and told me Jessica was pregnant? Do you remember what you said to me?"
Richard swallowed hard, his mind racing back to that evening.
"You told me I was half a woman," I whispered, the memory carrying no pain now, only the cold satisfaction of justice. "You told me you were going to build a real family with a real woman, and that I should be grateful you allowed me to keep your name. You spent five years trying to make me feel small, Richard. You wanted me to believe that my worth as a human being was tied to my ability to give you an heir."
"I was stupid, Lauren! I was insecure!"
"Yes, you were," I agreed. "And now, the world knows exactly how insecure you are. The tabloids published the full story this morning, Richard. They have the DNA results. They have the financial audits. Everyone knows you spent three million dollars of corporate money raising another man's children because you were too proud to admit you couldn't produce your own."
"No..." Richard whispered, his phone slipping slightly from his ear. "No, please..."
"Goodbye, Richard," I said. "Enjoy your legacy."
May you like
The line went dead.
Richard fell to the floor of the motel room, curling into a fetal position as the sounds of traffic outside filled the empty room. He was finally alone with the truth.
