Chapter 2 The Stranger at the Desk

Simeon cheered from the backseat, his little hands pressed against the window, his eyes gleaming, still clutching his crumpled birthday card. "Look, Mom! It resembles a castle. The fog of Mimi's thoughts was broken by his words.

Mimi looked in the rearview mirror at him. A tiny smile came to her lips, but it was forced, a slender thread of tension in the air. Her chest felt heavy as they drew nearer. The building's weight wasn't the only factor. It was the weight of the promises broken between the walls of the house she had once called home, the memories it held.

She tightened her grasp on the steering wheel, forcing herself to focus. This day was meant to be fantastic. a birthday. An opportunity to remind James of their family. Nevertheless, the excitement that accompanied her visits to CrossCorp seemed like a thing of the past.

Simeon's naive enthusiasm just made her discomfort worse. Was this the right decision? What was it she had hoped for? James would alter all of a sudden? That she would be noticed again by the man who had so long ignored her?

Mimi's stomach turned when the automobile skidded into the parking garage. The hum of activity, the distant clink of pricey heels on marble floors, and the typical crowd of dressed businessmen all felt off. As if a dream had begun to unravel around the edges.

With her heart pounding in her chest, Mimi turned off the engine and parked the car. She was more than simply a wife today. She was a woman today, unsure of what lay ahead.

Mimi walked toward the sleek, glass-fronted reception counter, her heels clicking softly on the polished marble floor. A young woman with blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, the receptionist looked up from her computer and smiled, but it fell short of her eyes. The receptionist asked in a friendly yet cold voice, "How can I help you?"

Mimi's fingers brushed the edge of her tablet as she cleared her throat. This was now her reality, even though she wasn't used to stating it out loud. She steadied herself and stared straight at the receptionist. "My name is Mrs. Cross. I am here to visit my spouse.

For a brief period, the receptionist's smile wavered before she looked down at her screen. The foyer was quiet save for the sound of her fingers dancing across the piano. Mimi's heartbeat accelerated. Her throat clenched into a knot.

The receptionist's face furrowed as her eyes flicked back up. "Mrs. Cross?" The question hung in the air, thick with uncertainty, and she paused. "I'm sorry, I don't see that name listed here."

A beat skipped in Mimi's heart. She looked over her shoulder as if there could be some hint in the world outside the structure. However, all it provided was solitude-the same stifling silence that surrounded her everywhere in the area she used to name her domain.

The receptionist's expression briefly flashed bewilderment before she composed herself and cleared her voice. "I apologize, ma'am. Are you certain that you are on today's guest list? The appointment of James Cross.

She was about to finish when she heard determined, quick footsteps coming from the elevator.

Mimi felt nauseous. She made an effort to control her breathing, but all she could think about was how invisible she felt. A forgotten name in the system. A wife who is forgotten.

The receptionist's eyes brightened with recognition as she looked up from her computer. "Oh! I'm referring to Scarlett Voss. She is now Mrs. Cross.

The words pierced Mimi's chest like knives, causing her breath to catch in her throat. The buzzing in her ears seemed too loud and overbearing, and the world around her seemed to stop.

"Excuse me?" Mimi's voice was hardly audible above a whisper, and her words' tremors betrayed her composed exterior. Her eyes narrowed as she stepped forward. "What just did you say?"

The receptionist smiled clippedly, utterly oblivious to the fury building inside Mimi. Scarlett Voss. She is now Mrs. Cross. The new spouse. They're probably going to make some big announcements shortly. I take it that you're here for the same reason?

Mimi's thoughts were racing. She struggled to maintain a steady breathing pattern as the room around her appeared to stretch and distort. Voss, Scarlett. The lady who had entered her life, who had entered her husband's bed without any opposition, and who didn't seem to care about the harm she was doing.

"Scarlett Voss." As if it were a foreign language, Mimi repeated the name. It sounded phony, like a deception she was unable to shake.

Her eyes darted back to the elevator doors, where she could make out the hazy figure of a person entering, while her stomach rumbled. It was unbearable to imagine James standing there with Scarlett, proudly and publicly referring to her as his wife. Everything she had battled for and sacrificed was taken away from her, and she was publicly humiliated.

Mimi's fingers gripped the edge of the desk as she turned to face the receptionist. She forced herself to speak past the thick lump in her throat by swallowing hard. "Where is James?"

Unaware of the magnitude of the treachery she had just delivered, the receptionist gave her a quick glance. I think he's in a meeting. Alongside Mrs. Cross.

"Why did she say that, Mom?" he said in a bewildered little voice.

Mimi's pulse caught in her throat as her gaze shifted to him. The innocence in Simeon's eyes suddenly felt like a stark reminder of all she had been attempting to escape; he was always so observant and intelligent. How was she going to tell him? How could she account for the woman who had inexplicably entered their lives and taken her place in every way but name?

She averted her eyes and stared at the elevator's shiny floor. "She... Mimi answered quietly, without the conviction she need, "She made a mistake, sweetheart." Although it was a lie, she wasn't ready to break it in front of him.

Simeon took a moment to react, his tiny hands gripping the sides of his gift box while the rumpled card remained inside. Evidently dissatisfied with the response, he shifted uneasily at her side. His silent query was pushing down on Mimi more forcefully than the elevator's chill, and she could feel the weight of his eyes on her. His anchor had just provided him with a meaningless response.

The bell's piercing ding announced their arrival as the elevator lurched to a stop on the thirty-first floor. Mimi inhaled deeply, but the constriction in her chest persisted. This was not a straightforward miscommunication. She wasn't yet ready to deal with this; it was something more.

The foyer was sleek and white and glass when the doors opened. The gentle murmur of quiet talks and the sound of quick footfall punctured the sterile air. Mimi took a step forward, pretending nothing was wrong. However, anxiety had stretched every fiber of her existence. She was anchored in the present when she felt Simeon's tiny hand in hers. They walked around the gleaming room together.

Two staff members entered the elevator as they were heading into the reception area, their laughter piercing the subdued mood. At first, they were too preoccupied with their chat to see Mimi and Simeon. One of the women spoke again, though, her voice pitched just loud enough to be heard as the elevator doors closed behind them.

Have you heard? "Now that Scarlett has James smitten," she remarked, her tone brimming with careless animosity. "I swear, he's practically her puppet because she has him so messed up."

A beat skipped in Mimi's heart. She remained motionless and silent. She felt the cold perspiration starting to gather at the back of her neck, and her hold on the railing tightened. Scarlett. Once more, that name.

In answer, the second woman snorted. Really, it's disgusting. Mimi is no longer even in the running. According to them, James already has plans to make her the new "face" of CrossCorp. His small endeavor. She laughed. It's funny how fast he moved on. I suppose he has discovered someone who is proficient in the game.

Mimi's chest constricted. Like shards of glass, the words pierced the atmosphere, each one going deeper than the one before it. She was having trouble breathing. She was immobile. Unaware of the effect of their comments, the two women shuffled out as the elevator lurched to a stop.

As he pulled on her sleeve, Simeon's tiny voice was almost audible. His big eyes gazed up at her with real curiosity as he inquired, "Who's Scarlett?"

Mimi's breath caught in her throat as the question hovered in the air like a bomb. There was only the weight of her son's naive question for a time while the world outside the elevator appeared to fade and blur. How could she respond? What was she going to say?

With a gentle ping, the doors opened, but Mimi stayed motionless, her pulse pounding in her chest, every part of her yearning to turn around and run away from the reality that was now bearing down on her.