After Seven Empty Chairs, I Took My Daughter and Left Chapter 28

After Seven Empty Chairs, I Took My Daughter and Left Chapter 28

If Ava couldn’t see the purpose of this gathering, she would have been a fool.

She was about to pick up her handbag and leave when she was interrupted by a figure who had just walked in from the entrance.

Sloane Carver.

She greeted everyone with a smile. “Sorry, everyone. Boston traffic was awful. I’m late.” She casually draped a soft cashmere shawl over her arm. Every woman present recognized the color of that iconic orange box. “It’s Noah’s fault. He insisted on worrying that I’d be cold tonight, so he drove all the way back to the Beacon Hill house to get me this Hermès shawl.”

“Noah is still so good to you,” Mark immediately offered praise. “We were just talking about the gossip between you two and Ava.”

Sloane’s gaze finally landed on Ava, carrying just the right amount of surprise and concern.

“Ava, you’re here too. I was worried you’d blame me and refuse to come.”

“Why would she blame you?” The alumna in the Chanel suit, like a perfect supporting actress, immediately picked up the line.

Sloane sighed, her face showing a mixture of difficulty and innocence.

“What else could it be? It’s all Noah’s fault. As soon as I came back, he treated me just as well as before. Ava is too possessive. She insisted on having her divorce lawyer file papers and pushed all responsibility for the marriage breaking down onto me.” As she spoke, tears threatened to fall. “I feel so bad for Ava, too, but Noah loves me, not her. There’s nothing anyone can do about that. Feelings are free, aren’t they?”

A wave of malicious, low laughter came from the crowd, like snakes flicking their tongues in the dark.

“If that is your purpose,” Ava said, her voice not loud, but cutting clearly through the buzzing whispers, “then I can only say I’m sorry. To me, Noah is only my ex-husband, a stranger with no legal or social relationship to me.”

Sloane’s expression froze instantly. Then her eyes reddened quickly.

“Ava, how can you think that? I… I came today to repair things with you…” Before she finished, she began to sob softly, her shoulders trembling slightly, perfectly playing the role of a misunderstood, heartbroken victim.

Ava looked at Sloane’s theatrical performance and suddenly found it somewhat funny.

And she didn’t hide it. She truly laughed.

The atmosphere in the rooftop bar became strange. Everyone looked back and forth between the two women: one crying, one laughing.

After a brief, stunned pause, almost everyone moved toward the weeping Sloane, handing her tissues and murmuring comfort while shooting condemning looks at the still-smiling “bully.”

Ava looked at this group of highly educated elite alumni and felt a deep sense of absurdity. So-called high society could be stirred up this easily by such a cheap soap-opera trick?

She didn’t explain further.

Against the backdrop of everyone surrounding the “victim,” Ava calmly picked up her handbag, turned, and walked straight out of the farce prepared so carefully for her.