"Layla is still my wife."
"The files are in my office. Along with everything else, including the evidence that Daniel stole from me and that Angela fired my staff."
Angela opened her mouth.
"Don't speak."
Then his gaze met mine. "Layla is the only person here who has spoken to me like a man, and not like a source of income. I will protect her. Our marriage isn't romantic, but it's based on respect and integrity."
***
After they left, Violet found me crying in the hallway.
"I thought you'd sold out," she murmured.
I dried my face. "You thought the worst of me so easily."
"The files are in my office."
Her lips trembled. "I know."
"You were my person," I said. "And you made me feel worthless for trying to survive."
Violet looked down. "I'm sorry, Layla."
I believed her. I wasn't prepared to comfort her.
***
Rick died four months later.
Daniel was fired from the company before the year was out. The evidence made silence impossible.
Angela lost her position on the foundation's board of directors after two senior executives corroborated the documents Rick had prepared. From then on, she stopped acting as if she owned the place.
"I'm sorry, Layla."
Violet came to see me a week later, her eyes red and unapologetic. She had read all the invoices, all the transfers, and all the handwritten notes from Rick.
"I was wrong about you," she said.
"Yeah."
She cried, but I didn't. I was tired of begging people to choose me out of kindness.
A month later, I walked into the foundation's offices with my own key. No one smiled smugly or asked me why.
They stood up when I entered.
And for the first time in my life, I didn't feel like I was doing charity work. I felt confident in myself.
