No assistant.
No driver.
No farewell scene.
No tears.
As the plane climbed above the clouds, my phone buzzed.
It was Miriam.
Daniel is marrying Vanessa tonight.
Huge reception.
Four hundred guests.
Press invited.
I looked through the window while the city grew smaller beneath me.
Daniel had always loved performing for an audience.
That was exactly why I had made sure he would have one.
Six hours after our divorce became official, Daniel married Vanessa.
Ending our marriage wasn’t enough.
He wanted a spectacle.
He wanted people watching.
He wanted photographs.
He wanted everyone who mattered to see that he had “moved on” before the ink on our divorce papers was dry.
Their reception was being held at the Halberg Hotel.
The irony almost made me laugh.
Years earlier, Daniel had once left me sitting alone in that same hotel lobby while Vanessa—who was supposedly his “marketing consultant” at the time—was upstairs in his suite.
