Chapter 3 - The Price of Illusion
Deprived of my executive office, stripped of my corporate access, and barred from my own home, I had nowhere else to go.
By 2:00 PM, I arrived at Brianna’s luxury high-rise apartment complex in the Gulch district of downtown Nashville. My clothes were wrinkled, my head was pounding with a vicious migraine, and my phone was dead. I used the lobby building phone to call up to her floor.
"Brianna," I rasped when she answered. "It's Garrett. Let me up."
There was a long pause on the line. "Garrett? Why are you calling from the lobby? Why aren't you answering my texts?"
"My phone broke. Just let me up, please. Everything is falling apart."
The door monitor buzzed, releasing the lock. I took the elevator to the twentieth floor and walked down the carpeted hallway to unit 2004. The door opened, and Brianna stood there, wearing a silk robe I had purchased for her three weeks ago in Atlanta. She looked confused, her eyes narrowing as she took in my unkempt hair, shadow-covered jaw, and stained shirt.
"What happened to you?" she asked, stepping back as I entered the sleek, modern apartment. "You look terrible."
"Madeline knows," I blurted out, sinking onto her velvet sofa—the very sofa I had paid eight thousand dollars to have delivered to her apartment. "She cleaned out the house. She took Lily. She took the company, Brianna. The board suspended me this morning. The bank accounts are frozen."
Brianna froze in the middle of the room, a glass of iced tea halfway to her lips. The warm, inviting demeanor she had worn for four months instantly vanished, replaced by a sharp, calculating stare.
"What do you mean 'frozen'?" she asked slowly. "What about the retainer payments for next month? The lease on this apartment is under my consulting firm, but the direct debit comes from Holloway Logistics."
"Did you hear what I just said?!" I snapped, my frustration finally boiling over. "My wife left me! She took my daughter! I've been kicked out of my own company!"
Brianna set her glass down on the glass coffee table with a sharp clink. She didn't rush to comfort me. She didn't wrap her arms around me or tell me we would get through it together. She simply folded her arms across her chest and looked at me as if I were a stranger who had walked into the wrong room.
"Garrett, you told me your marriage was an administrative formality," she said coldly. "You told me you and your wife had an understanding and that the company assets were completely under your control."
"I lied to myself!" I shouted, burying my face in my hands. "I thought I had time! I thought I was in control! But she knew everything, Brianna! She had an auditor tracking us for months!"
Brianna took a long, slow breath. She walked over to her desk, picked up her iPad, and flipped through a few screens.
"I received an email an hour ago from a legal firm representing Holloway Logistics," she said, her voice dropping into a businesslike tone. "They are demanding a full return of all gifts, jewelry, and funds transferred from corporate accounts over the past ninety days, citing illegal conversion of corporate assets. They threatened a civil lawsuit and a referral to the District Attorney if I don't comply."
"I'll handle it," I lied desperately, reaching for her hand. "Brianna, listen to me. We can get through this. I still have personal investments. I can get a lawyer, fight the board, get my shares back—"
She pulled her hand away. "No, Garrett. You can't."
I stared at her. "What?"
"I am a independent consultant," she said, her eyes cold and unfeeling. "My reputation in this city depends on my professional integrity. If I am dragged into a high-profile corporate embezzlement and divorce trial, my career is over. I cannot be associated with this."
"Associated with this?!" I laughed hysterically, tears stinging my eyes. "You spent the money! You asked for the bags, the shoes, the apartment! You sat with me in those restaurants while I ignored my family!"
"I offered you companionship and professional advice, Garrett," she said smoothly, walking toward the front door and pulling it open. "You were the one who made the choices. You were the one who had a wife and a newborn baby at home. I didn't force you to lie to her."
"Brianna, please..."
"You need to leave," she said, her voice devoid of a single trace of affection. "My lawyer will be contacting Mrs. Holloway's team to return the assets and settle this quietly. Please do not call me again."
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I stood up, feeling completely hollowed out. The illusion had shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. The romance, the glamour, the feeling of being young and important—it was all a transaction. A parasite feeding on a dying tree. And now that the tree had been cut down, the parasite was moving on.
I walked out into the carpeted hallway. The heavy oak door of unit 2004 clicked shut behind me, locking with a sharp, final mechanical sound.
