He glanced around, suddenly aware that several guests were listening.
"You are embarrassing yourself."
"No," she said softly. "I think I'm finally seeing myself clearly."
He laughed, but the sound was strained.
"You've become impossible. I have spent years trying to make this marriage work, and all you do is criticize me."
"Trying to make it work?"
"Yes."
"When was the last time you asked me how I was feeling?"
He stared at her.
"When was the last time you listened to something I said without turning it into an argument? When was the last time you came home because you wanted to see me rather than because you needed something signed?"
"That's enough."
"No, Adrian. It isn't."
Her voice was still quiet, but something in it made him pause.
She had never spoken to him this way in public.
For years, she had protected his image even when he failed to protect her heart.
She had learned to soften every truth, disguise every disappointment, and swallow every question that might threaten the fragile peace between them.
Tonight, she had no desire to preserve that peace.
Adrian leaned closer.
"If you cannot behave like an adult, perhaps you should leave."
The words hung between them.
Eleanor looked at him.
"Perhaps I should."
He appeared momentarily satisfied, as if he had finally forced her into submission.
Then she reached for her left hand.
The diamond ring slipped from her finger with a small, almost inaudible movement.
She held it in her palm.
For one strange moment, she remembered the rain, the river, and Adrian's trembling hands. She remembered his promise that he would never make her feel alone.
The memory hurt.
But the hurt no longer felt like a command to stay.
She placed the ring on the folded white napkin beside her plate.
Adrian's smile disappeared.
"What are you doing?"
Eleanor looked at the ring, then at him.
"Giving you what you seem to want."
His eyes widened.
"Don't be dramatic."
"I'm not."
"You can't simply walk away from a marriage because you're angry."
She tilted her head.
"Is that what you think this is?"
"Then what is it?"
She studied his face, searching for even the smallest trace of the man she had loved.
She found impatience.
Pride.
Fear, perhaps, hiding somewhere beneath the surface.
But she found no tenderness.
"This is me finally understanding that I cannot save a marriage by being the only person willing to fight for it."
Adrian's expression hardened.
"If you leave this room, don't expect me to chase after you."
Eleanor nodded.
"I wouldn't ask you to."
She turned away.
For several seconds, no one moved.
Then she began walking toward the ballroom doors.
Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor.
She passed the champagne fountain, the flower arrangements, and the guests who suddenly seemed fascinated by their glasses. She passed the investors who had once praised her intelligence and the board members who had smiled at her during countless dinners.
She could feel their eyes following her.
Some looked shocked.
Some looked uncomfortable.
A few looked sympathetic.
But no one stopped her.
She did not expect them to.
When she reached the entrance, she paused beneath the towering doors and glanced back once.
Adrian stood beside the table, staring at the ring she had left behind.
Vanessa was speaking to him, but he did not appear to hear her.
For the first time that evening, he looked uncertain.
Eleanor turned away.
Outside, the rain had stopped.
The city smelled of wet pavement and cold air. Cars moved through the streets, their headlights reflected in the puddles along the curb.
A doorman hurried toward her.
"Madam, shall I call your driver?"
Eleanor looked at him.
"No, thank you."
She stepped onto the sidewalk and began walking.
She had no destination in mind.
She simply wanted to feel the ground beneath her feet without wondering whether Adrian approved of the direction she was taking.
Her phone vibrated inside her purse.
She ignored it.
It vibrated again.
Then again.
She finally took it out.
Three messages from Adrian.
The first read: WHERE ARE YOU GOING?
The second: COME BACK INSIDE. WE ARE NOT FINISHED.
The third arrived less than a minute later.
YOU ARE MAKING A TERRIBLE MISTAKE.
Eleanor stared at the screen.