Six Years Of Afternoon Tea Bought Me The Truth About My Husband Chapter 11

Six Years Of Afternoon Tea Bought Me The Truth About My Husband Chapter 11

After the divorce, I renovated the house.

I packed up everything Andres left behind and shipped it away.

His closet full of suits. His trophies. His coffee sets. And that pearl necklace.

The delivery courier had to make six trips.

Mrs. Bell looked at the clearing space and asked, “Are you really not keeping anything?”

“To collect dust?” I replied.

She laughed.

I went to the company to handle the dividend paperwork.

The shareholders looked at me with incredibly complex expressions.

They used to call me Mrs. Moreau.

Now they called me Ms. Vance.

One of them tested the waters, asking, “Will you be participating in company affairs going forward?”

out a collective sigh of relief.

Then I added, “But I will be reviewing the financial books.”

They instantly grew tense again.

Andres sat at the other end of the table, his face thunderous.

He didn’t dare utter a single word

Because I still held those audio recordings

On the day Norah gave birth, she sent me a photo

It was a baby boy

She attached a message: [Stevie, I really have nowhere left to turn]

I didn’t reply.

She sent another: [I shouldn’t have listened to him back then.]

I blocked her.

Everyone has to pay for the choices they make no matter what.

Three months later, Andres’s company ran into trouble.

It wasn’t my doing.

He simply couldn’t hold things together on his own.

Norah published a long essay online.

She claimed Andres had used her and her pregnancy to force his wife into a divorce.

She didn’t name the real father of her child. She just pushed the entire blame onto Andres.

The public slammed her. They slammed Andres, too.

Worried about the fallout, the company’s business partners pulled out of two major projects.

The shareholders completely kicked Andres out of management.

His shares were heavily diluted.

The executive office he used to prize above everything else now belonged to a new owner.

Lainey moved out of her original mansion.

She called me once.

“Stevie, how have you been lately?”

“Pretty good”

She fell silent for a long time

“I don’t really know what to say”

“Then don’t say anything”

She went silent again

Finally, she whispered, “I wish you the best in the future”

“Thank you,” I replied.

Right before hanging up, she called out to me. “Stevie.”

“Yeah.”

“For those six years, I’m truly sorry.”

This time, I gave a response. “Okay.”

It wasn’t forgiveness. It was just acknowledgment.

Half a year later, I visited Callie’s hometown.

She and her husband had opened a breakfast diner in the local town.

The place wasn’t large, but it was spotless.

The moment Callie saw me, she ran out to hug me without even taking off her apron. “Stevie!”

The driver poked his head out from the kitchen, his hands completely covered in flour. “Hello, Stevie!”

They brought out a full spread-coffee, eggs, toast, and a little plate of hash browns.

Callie said, “We didn’t waste a single penny of the money you gave us. The diner is rented, and we’re taking it

one step at a time.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said.

Her eyes crinkled into a huge smile. “Back when we worked for someone else, we were always walking on

eggshells. Now we’re exhausted, but we answer to no one.”

Callie’s husband sat down with us, rubbing his hands together. “Stevie, if only I had spoken up sooner back

then.”

I shook my head. “You both already helped me immensely.”

Callie lowered her voice, mentioning, “Andres came looking for my husband a while back”

I looked up “What did he want?”

“He wanted him to change his story and claim those photos and recordings were faked.”

Callie’s husband snorted, adding, “I told him to get lost”

Hearing that didn’t make me feel much of anything

Some people fall out of your life and don’t even deserve a second thought.

A year later, I sold the house.

It wasn’t because I needed the money.

I just didn’t want to live there anymore.

The new place wasn’t large, but it was close to my parents.

I started working again.

I didn’t join a massive corporation, nor did I do anything earth-shattering.

I opened a small financial consulting studio.

I specialized in helping mom-and-pop shops and family businesses sort through their books.

A lot of women were exactly like I used to be. They invested the money. They did the work. But their names

were nowhere to be found.

I didn’t advise them to get divorced.

I only told them to keep the accounts clear, preserve the receipts, and look closely at whatever they signed.

One woman burst into tears after listening to me.

She confessed, “My husband says I’m being too petty about everything.”

I replied, “Being petty about money is always better than having to fight for your life later on.”

She wiped away her tears and smiled.

I still took Callie out for afternoon tea every month.

Whenever she came to the city to restock inventory from her hometown, she would bring me a bag of her

homemade biscuits.

She said, “Stevie, I’m still such a big talker.”

“That’s a good thing,” I said.

Talking a lot can truly save a life.

Five years later, Callie’s breakfast diner opened its second location

On the grand opening day, she invited me to cut the ribbon

Dressed in a bright red jacket, she smiled happier than anyone.

Her husband stood right beside her, still not a man of many words, but he kept busily serving coffee to the

customers.

I sent them a bouquet and a card.

The card read: [Wish you all the best.]

Callie stared at it for a long time, her eyes welling up with tears. “Stevie, if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have

any of this today.”

“And if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have my today either,” I said.

She gave my arm a playful swat. “Let’s not get all emotional with each other, it’s making me break out in

goosebumps.”

I laughed.

At noon, she asked me to stay for lunch.

She suddenly asked, “Stevie, do you ever regret taking me out for afternoon tea every month back then?”

thought about it for a moment. “No.”

During those six years, I wasn’t trying to flatter a driver’s wife.

I was keeping an informant.

The worst thing in a marriage isn’t the betrayal itself. It’s having no way to find out the truth.

in the afternoon, I returned to my studio.

A bouquet sat on my desk.

The accompanying card read: [Ms. Vance, thank you for reminding me to audit the books. I saved my shop.]

It was sent by a client

I arranged the flowers neatly into a vase

My phone chimed

Callie sent a message [Stevie, are we still on for afternoon tea next month?]

I replied: [Yes. Your treat.]

She replied instantly [Deal I’m a real boss now, you know]

I looked at the screen and smiled.

The sunlight outside the window was beautiful

My life was beautiful, too.

Life was much better without Andres.