Under the tablecloth, I knew their feet were touching.

After the main course, I stood.

“I have a gift,” I said, placing a Tiffany-blue box on the table. “For fifteen years of loyalty.”

Jessica opened it eagerly.

Inside were glossy 8×10 photographs.

Her and Liam at The Pierre.

Screenshots of their texts.

Highlighted bank statements.

Silence crashed into the room.

Liam trembled.

Jessica went pale.

“Elena, I can explain—”

“Explain what?” I asked calmly. “Explain why you stole from your daughter’s college fund to finance an affair? Explain why my best friend sleeps in the bed I paid for?”

Then I placed the final envelope on the table.

“Divorce papers,” I said. “Filed this morning. I’ve requested an audit for dissipation of marital assets.”

And I wasn’t finished.

“Oh, Liam. I sent the photo archive to your Managing Partner. I’m sure he’ll find your ‘client dinners’ fascinating.”

His career ended before Monday arrived.

I turned to Jessica.

“I’ve withdrawn my guarantee on your apartment lease. You have thirty days.”

Dinner was over.