Chapter 1 - A Corridor of Gold and Gray
The warm yellow wall sconces cast a heavy, buttery glow across the gold decorative trim of the grand hotel hallway, but the opulence felt entirely hollow against my skin. I stood beside the gray multi-tier cleaning cart, my fingers resting on the handle of a spray bottle as I tried to steady my breathing. My red hair was pulled back tightly into a ponytail, secured by the green headband that had become my daily armor, and my white collar maid dress sat stiffly over my black uniform. The air smelled faintly of lemon disinfectant and expensive wool.
"Please watch your step, sir," I murmured, my voice dropping instinctively as the heavy footsteps echoed against the polished marble floor.
The man in the dark grey suit jacket and black button-down shirt stopped dead in his tracks. Luke. My husband of three years, the man who had left our cramped suburban apartment hours earlier under the guise of an executive networking dinner. His clean-shaven face went completely pale, his eyes widening in horror as he stared at the cleaning cart, then up at my tear-streaked face.
Before either of us could draw a breath, the rhythmic click of heels signaled the arrival of the woman on his arm. She wore a sparkling silver sequined sleeveless gown that caught every ounce of the chandelier light, a diamond necklace glittering against her throat, and diamond earrings that swung as she stepped forward. She clung possessively to Luke’s arm, her blonde hair styled in an elaborate updo.
"Luke, who is this cleaning woman? Why are you looking at her like that?" her voice rang out, sharp and demanding, cutting through the heavy silence of the corridor with crystal clarity.
May you like
Luke’s throat bobbed. He looked between the wealthy socialite holding his arm and me, standing beside the sponges and buckets that represented our shared, desperate reality. The tension snapped like a dry twig. His eyes brimmed with sudden, betraying moisture, and his voice cracked as he shouted past the shock, "She is my wife."
The blonde woman dropped her hand from his arm as if he had burned her. I didn’t wait for the fallout, the scandal, or the questions. I turned, grabbed the handle of the cleaning cart, and pushed it blindly toward the service door.
