Chapter 5 No.5

The final days in the mansion felt like living in a stranger's house.

Cale was a constant presence now. His clothes were in the guest closet, his car was in the driveway, his laughter filled the rooms. He and Jorja were a self-contained unit, a world of two that Arvin merely orbited.

A week later was the Romero family's annual garden party, a final, significant event before the end of the social season. Arvin knew this would be his last. He treated it as a silent farewell.

He walked through the familiar gardens, past the smiling faces of people who knew him as Mr. Romero but had never truly seen him. He was saying goodbye not to them, but to the role he had played for five years.

He found a quiet corner behind a large oak tree, looking for a moment of peace. He overheard two of Jorja's aunts talking.

"It's so good to see Jorja with Cale again," one said. "She's herself again."

"What will happen with Arvin?" the other asked in a hushed tone.

"Oh, Elizebeth has it all figured out. Once the contract is up, he'll be given a generous severance and sent on his way. A clean break. Jorja will be free to marry Cale properly."

A severance. Sent on his way. His entire five-year existence, reduced to a business transaction. He felt a cold clarity settle over him. There were no emotions left, just facts.

He stepped back from the tree, and his eyes met Jorja's from across the lawn. She was standing with Cale near the rose bushes, the same ones Arvin had painstakingly cultivated because she'd once said she liked the color.

Cale leaned in and kissed her. It was a long, slow, possessive kiss, right there in front of everyone.

It wasn't the kiss that broke the final thread. It was what she was holding.

In her hand was a single, perfect white rose from the bush. The same type of rose he used to leave on her pillow every morning for the first year of their marriage, a silent gesture of his affection. She had never once acknowledged it.

Now, she took that rose and gently tucked it into Cale's lapel. She was giving Cale the very gesture she had ignored from him for years.

The last illusion shattered. It turned to dust and blew away on the afternoon breeze.

A sudden summer storm rolled in, the sky turning a dark, angry gray. Rain began to fall in heavy sheets. Guests shrieked and ran for the cover of the main tent.

Cale grabbed Jorja's hand. "Come on, let's get inside!"

Arvin didn't move. He stood on the lawn as the rain soaked him, plastering his shirt to his skin, his hair to his forehead. He tilted his face up to the sky and let the cold water wash over him.

He didn't need their shelter. He didn't need their world. He would stand on his own, in his own storm.

He had spent five years trying to earn her love. He had contorted himself into the shape of a perfect husband, a perfect caretaker, a perfect man. He had erased himself in the process.

But love couldn't be earned. And he was tired of trying.

From this moment on, he would love himself. He would choose himself.

He turned his back on the party, on the warm lights of the tent, and walked out into the rain, a free man.