Lipstick on the Collar
The sharp sound of shattering glass barely registered over the ringing in Cordelia's ears. Cold water soaked through her socks, blending with the scattered shards across the hardwood floor. She stared down at the mess, the phone screen still glowing with Mallory’s calculated strike.
It all made a sick, twisted sort of sense now. Just a few weeks prior, Gideon had returned from a corporate dinner smelling of stale alcohol, practically supported by a young woman. Mallory had cheerfully introduced herself as his new secretary, boldly taking the initiative to add Cordelia on WhatsApp right there in the entryway.
"How wonderfully ironic," Cordelia mused in the quiet of the kitchen, carefully sweeping up the broken glass. A married man going out of his way to hire his ex-girlfriend.
She had eventually learned the real reason behind his heavy drinking that night. His collaborator had brought along a female secretary, who turned out to be Mallory, fresh off a four-year stint abroad. Gideon, ever the domineering force, had stubbornly poached her from her former employer on the spot.
He had justified it by claiming the collaborator’s boss was a notorious pervert in their industry, and he simply couldn't leave a capable worker in a morally reprehensible environment.
Gideon had eagerly played the valiant knight in shining armor, swooping in to rescue her.
The front door finally clicked open at nine o'clock the following morning. Gideon stepped into the foyer, shrugging off his coat. He found Cordelia exactly where she always was—sitting quietly in the dining room, her face noticeably drained of color.
"Have you had something to eat?" he asked, his deep voice carrying its usual edge of corporate weariness. He loosened his tie, not waiting for a response. "I'll go take a shower."
He moved with practiced ease, entirely convinced his casual facade was flawless. He saw no reason to offer an explanation for his absence, completely oblivious to the fact that his lover had already provided a detailed timeline on his behalf.
Cordelia forced a deep breath into her lungs and stood up. She walked over to the sofa, proceeding in her usual manner to pick up the suit jacket he had carelessly discarded.
As she smoothed the expensive fabric, her fingers momentarily stiffened. A humorless realization crept over her.
Mallory never missed an opportunity to throw a punch. The cherry-red lipstick smudge left blatantly on the collar of Gideon's white shirt was an aggressively juvenile tactic, a deliberate tag meant to mark her territory.
"I've placed your clothes outside, Gideon," Cordelia called out. Her voice was perfectly gentle, entirely devoid of the disgust churning in her stomach, mirroring his own practiced calm.
He emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, smelling of damp cedar and fresh soap. Walking up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"I wasn't there for you on Christmas Eve, but I'll make it up to you today. What would you like as a gift?"
Cordelia's smile felt brittle, pasted on for pure survival. The weight of his touch now brought a cold wave of repulsion sliding down her spine.
He kept his first crush enshrined in his chest, yet he had chained her to his side to play the dutiful spouse. The sheer unfairness of it tasted like ash in her mouth.
"Let's go to the beach for a walk this afternoon," Cordelia suggested quietly, stepping out of his hold.
She had always been a foolishly compliant wife. Over four years of marriage, she had barely touched his substantial wealth, harboring a genuine aversion to the high-society luxury he could provide. In essence, she was the perfect, low-maintenance ornament he had meticulously chosen for his home.
Mallory stood in stark contrast. She moved through the world expecting men to pave her path in gold, inherently meant to be pampered.
"Are you saving money for me?" Gideon arched his eyebrows, stepping close again to rest his chin heavily on her shoulder. He relaxed into her space like a weary bird finally finding its nest at the end of a long flight.
Cordelia realized he had simply grown accustomed to her presence, viewing her as an integral foundation of his home. She occupied the permanent role of a wife, but never the passionate role of a lover.
By noon, the psychological warfare resumed. Cordelia sat on the living room sofa, staring at another instance of Mallory flaunting her lifestyle on Instagram.
It was a picture of a newly released designer handbag. Despite being a simple accessory, the price tag sat comfortably in the tens of thousands of dollars.
The caption read: [He always told me that true love is demonstrated when men are willing to spend on women. What can I say? I adore it.]
Cordelia discreetly took a screenshot of the post. She set her phone facedown on the coffee table with an air of absolute detachment, waiting for Gideon to finish getting ready for their trip to the beach.
Leaning back against the cushions, she found herself grappling with the heavy reality of her impending doom.
If she were healthy, if she still had a long road ahead of her, she would have requested a divorce without a second of hesitation. She would have gladly stepped aside and granted him the opportunity to be with his lover forever.
Unfortunately, she was rapidly approaching death.
Her time was bleeding out, and she flatly refused to allow herself to be deceived by Gideon for another second. She couldn't tolerate the underhanded provocations from a woman utterly lacking in morals.
Yet, she had no intention of seeking vengeance through loud arguments or dishonorable public scandals.
The most effective way to break someone was to strike exactly where they felt most secure. When dealing with individuals like Gideon and Mallory, the only fitting response was to reciprocate the exact psychological pain they had inflicted upon her.
That night, a cool coastal wind whipped across the dark shoreline. Standing near the edge of the surf, Cordelia took an unprecedented step and uploaded a post to her own Instagram.
The photo was a beautifully framed shot of her hand securely intertwined with Gideon’s on the beach.
The caption read: [Beneath the vast expanse of the star-studded sky lies an immense ocean. I love the sea breeze, and I love you.]
Sinking her bare feet into the soft, damp sand, Cordelia silently began to count her steps. She calculated exactly how much time would pass before Mallory saw the update, grew intensely irritated, and reached out in a fit of jealousy.
It only took ten steps.
Cordelia only managed to walk ten paces before Gideon's phone began to ring loudly in the night air.
Sure enough, the caller was none other than Mallory.