He didn’t know copies of the bank statements were with my lawyer.
He didn’t know I had stopped looking at myself in the mirror and asking what was wrong with me.
I was looking at him now.
And I could finally see what was missing.
Honesty.
The Last Dinner
I decided to confront him on Friday evening.
Not because Friday was dramatic.
Because on Saturday he planned to “go to the office,” while Victoria had already confirmed that Milena had a hotel reservation near Vitosha.
I prepared dinner.
Not to trap him.
Not to seduce him.
I simply wanted, one last time, to see our life exactly as it appeared from the outside.
The table was set.
There was baked fish, salad, and a bottle of wine we had been saving for our anniversary but had never opened.
When Georgi walked in, he looked surprised.
“What’s the occasion?”
“Thirty-one years and eight months of marriage,” I said.
He laughed.
“That’s a strange occasion.”
“Yes,” I said. “But I thought we should celebrate the time.”
He sat down.
Poured himself wine.
“What’s going on, Elena?”
“I have something for you.”
I handed him a small folder.
