Heights Beyond the River

When Rowan came to pick me up for the concert, he introduced me to the woman in the passenger seat.
Victoria, this is Elara. I've told you about her. You should think of her as a little sister.
Ah, so this was the one.
The woman who had every socialite in the city waiting for me to make a fool of myself.
She was wearing a cheap sheath dress, her delicate, pale face a mask of aloof pride. Still, she managed to force out the words, "It's a pleasure to meet you."
I gave her a friendly nod. "Hello."
Then I reached past her and pulled open the passenger side door.
"You're in the wrong seat."
01
The arrogance on Elaras face lasted only a second before her eyes welled with tears.
"Rowan..."
"I asked her to sit here." Rowans voice was deep and steady, laced with an authority that left no room for argument. "Elara gets carsick and she's sensitive to the cold. It's more comfortable for her up front."
I held my position, my hand still on the door, and met his gaze with a sweet smile. "Oh, carsickness, is it? In that case, maybe you should let her drive. I've heard the driver never gets carsick."
I turned my kindest expression to the woman. "Besides, the driver's seat is still warm from your Rowan. You won't be cold."
"Victoria, what nonsense are you talking?"
I ignored the anger simmering in his voice, my eyes fixed on Elara. Her face was flushed, tears trembling on her lashes. Finally, with a stiff, proud posture, she exited the car.
"Rowan, thank you for today," she said, her voice dripping with martyrdom. "I don't think I'll go to the concert. Just because something is popular doesn't mean it's good."
"Music, like people, shouldn't be judged by class or status. You don't need a grand concert hall to hear true beauty. As long as I stay true to myself, that's all that matters."
I raised an eyebrow.
Over the years, I'd dealt with my fair share of women who tried to get close to Rowan. I'd seen the gold-diggers and the ones blinded by his looks.
But I'd never encountered one like this.
A delicate, self-pitying little flower convinced of her own tragic superiority.
No wonder Rowan had been obsessed with her ever since he'd heard her playing violin on a street corner. He'd bought her a new instrument, sent her flowers, even funded her private lessons. And now, on our wedding anniversary, he was bringing her along.
Rowan got out of the car, his hand catching her wrist as she turned to leave. "Elara, this is a rare opportunity for you. Don't miss it."
"I'll have her apologize to you..."
My gaze drifted to their clasped hands. His wedding ring was gone, a faint, pale band of skin the only evidence it had ever been there.
"That won't be necessary. You shouldn't force people to do things they don't want to, Rowan." She lifted her chin, her voice a study in noble suffering. "And a simple apology won't erase the humiliation I've already endured."
The composure I had spent years cultivating threatened to crack. For a fleeting moment, my hand itched to slap that look off her face.
I managed to restrain myself. I took a step toward the car, ready to take my rightful seat.
And then I saw it.
A dark, crimson stain, stark against the cream-colored leather of the passenger seat. The back of Elaras dress was stained with blood.
"Elara, you"
Rowan had clearly seen it too. His voice caught in his throat. In a swift, practiced motion, he stripped off his six-figure suit jacket and wrapped it around her waist.
"I'm going to the convenience store. Wait here."
Their eyes met. A blush crept up Elaras cheeks as she nodded. They moved with a seamless, practiced intimacy.
I slammed my Herms bag against the car door.
The sound was a deafening bang.
It was just like years ago, when I was chasing a then-penniless Rowan who was working in a bar. I had ordered ten champagne towers and then smashed every single one, just to make sure all the other women who were after him knew to back off.
"So," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "This car is now filthy. How much are you going to pay for the damages?"
It had been a long time since I'd been this angry. Even Rowan seemed taken aback.
"Elara didn't do it on purpose. I'll pay for the cleaning."
A cold laugh escaped my lips. "Cleaning? You think you can clean the stench out of this car? I want the entire interior replaced. Or better yet, just buy me a new one."
Elaras face turned ashen. "Miss Vance, I may not have money, but I have my pride. There's no need to be so insulting."
My smile was laced with poison. "And does your pride pay the bills? Did I insult you? Why don't you take a good whiff yourself?"
At my words, tears streamed down her face like broken pearls.
Rowan shot me a frigid glare. "That's enough."
"I will cover all the costs. This has nothing to do with Elara. Don't poison something pure with your own malice."
It was the middle of summer, but a chill snaked its way up my spine. The smile on my face froze.
Suddenly, the whole thing just felt so pointless.
02
I watched as Rowan hurried into the convenience store, expertly navigating the aisle of feminine hygiene products.
Elara's voice cut through the silence. "Miss Vance, you could never understand the connection Rowan and I share."
"We're kindred spirits. He appreciates my music, and I understand his silent suffering. It has nothing to do with money or class." She seemed immensely proud of this. "I'm not like you. I don't have a nouveau riche father, but I have a sincere heart."
"He only married you back then because he had no other choice."
"If I had appeared in his life just a few years earlier, perhaps he wouldn't be like this nowso polished and perfect on the outside, but a barren wasteland within."
Rowan's soul, a barren wasteland?
I met him when he was twenty, working four jobs just to survive. His father was a gambling addict who had left him with a mountain of debt, forcing him to drop out of college. That winter, he wore a threadbare black coat, so thin he was practically skeletal. Even his beautiful eyes were devoid of life.
I didn't understand the concept of a young man's pride. All I knew was that I had everything he needed.
So I pulled him out of the abyss.
I forced him to accept my generosity. I forced him to look up, to see only me.
Eventually, everyone in the city knew the story: Rowan Vance had been forced into marrying me.
They all whispered about it. The poor, brilliant artist, they'd said, had no defense against the spoiled, flashy heiress.
It wasn't until he had been cultivated into a man so successful that everyone else had to crane their necks to look up at him that people started saying I was lucky.
But no one knew that what I had invested in this relationship was far more than just luck.
"He's a man, not your property," Elara continued, her voice a self-righteous drone in my ear.
The old me would have slapped her twice for that. But as I saw Rowan rushing back towards us, and the woman who was clearly terrified but deliberately provoking me, I had a change of heart.
"You're right," I said. "He is a man. My man."
"If you want to parade around with him and slap me in the face, you not only have to ask for my permission, but you also have to ask him if he's truly willing to become a heartless monster for you."
My voice was pitched just loud enough for Rowan to hear as he approached.
He frowned. "Victoria, there's nothing going on between Elara and me. The rumors... they're nothing to us, but for a single woman like Elara, they're incredibly damaging. Don't believe what people are saying."
Elara bit her lip, her eyes full of unspoken words. The sight should have brought me a sense of victory, but I couldn't bring myself to smile.
"You should head to the concert first," Rowan said to me. "I'll get Elara settled, and then I'll meet you there."
The woman leaned against him, and he didn't pull away. Instead, he scooped her into his arms and gently placed her back in the passenger seat.
"If you think the car is dirty, just take a taxi. I'll go with you to look at new cars tomorrow."
I was suddenly thrown back to that year when I was twenty. He was the same then. His cool, calm eyes would just look at me, never saying no. I had been overjoyed, watching his gray life fill with color because of me. He was never spoiled by my affection, never sycophantic. He just... allowed my "whims."
Just like now. I didn't know if he had crossed a line.
But he was allowing Elara to cross one.
I stood silently on the sidewalk, watching the car pull away until it was out of sight. I couldn't say a word.
I went to the concert anyway. The tickets were a gift from a friend, and I felt I should at least make an appearance. The truth was, I'd never cared much for classical music.
But Rowan loved it.
He could stare at a painting I found incomprehensible for an entire afternoon. He could be moved to tears by a symphony that put me to sleep. It was only in the presence of this "high art" that he ever showed any real emotion.
So when I received the tickets, I'd wanted to please him. I had imagined us there together, his arm around me, a moment of shared intimacy as he lost himself in the music.
I never imagined that the seat next to me would remain empty for the entire performance.
After listening distractedly, I had the bouquet I'd brought sent to one of the performers I knew, and then I left.
When I got home, I saw his car parked in the driveway. A sense of dread washed over me.
I pushed open the door. Rowan was sitting in the living room, looking perfectly calm. The jacket stained with Elaras blood was tossed carelessly on the sofa. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms that were still damp.
Something was wrong.
"Why didn't you take the car to be detailed?"
Before Rowan could answer, a woman's cry of surprise echoed from the master bedroom.
03
I froze.
He strode towards the bedroom, his knock on the door laced with a strange restraint. "Elara? What's wrong?"
"Your wife's clothes... they don't quite fit. I was trying one on and I accidentally knocked over the wedding photo on your nightstand..."
A surge of rage, white-hot and blinding, propelled me forward. I shoved the man out of my way and threw open the door, not caring that the woman inside was half-dressed.
Crack.
The sound of my hand connecting with her cheek echoed in the room. I had used all my strength. She crumpled to the floor, clutching her face, her eyes wide with shock.
I surveyed the scene. Our wedding photo lay shattered on the floor. My clothes were strewn across the dressing room. The bathtub was half-filled with pinkish water. The air was thick with the scent of Rowan's body wash and the faint, metallic smell of blood.
A wave of nausea churned in my stomach.
The man behind me grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around Elara.
"Victoria, have you lost your mind?" he roared. "She was just using the bathroom and borrowing some clothes! Is that any reason to have such a violent reaction?"
He looked at me as if I were insane. But this was our bedroom. Our private sanctuary. The dressing room was filled with dresses I had bought to please him. The body wash was a matching scent I had picked out for us as a couple.
"Apologize," he commanded, his voice cold and hard as he shielded the woman in his arms.
A bitter taste filled my mouth. I stumbled back a few steps. "Never."
We stared at each other, a silent battle of wills. Neither of us would back down. Finally, my vision blurred, and he let out a sigh.
"You've been by my side for so many years. I thought you would have learned some compassion by now."
"Victoria, you are a profound disappointment to me."
His words hit me like a physical blow. My heart seized. A tear escaped and traced a path down my cheek.
For him, I had abandoned the perfect life my parents had planned for me. I had learned to cook, to manage a household. I had given up my wild, carefree lifestyle and forced myself to cultivate a taste for his dry, sophisticated passions.
The hardest thing I had ever done was to sand down my own personality, to reshape myself into the woman I thought he wanted. I had believed that, on some level, he must have been touched by my efforts.
But in the end, all he had for me was disappointment.
I refused to let myself crumble.
I wiped my tears, went to the study, and retrieved a slightly yellowed document. I threw it on the floor in front of them.
"Then let's get a divorce."
The air grew heavy with silence. A small, humorless laugh escaped Rowan's lips. "Put that away. You can use it again next time."
The mockery in his tone was like a needle to the heart.
A choked laugh escaped from Elara. Her look of embarrassment was replaced by one of amusement.
My fingernails dug into my palms. The last flicker of hope deep inside me was extinguished.
He was right, in a way. He was the one who had prepared the divorce papers in the first place. Six months into our marriage, he had asked for a divorce. That day was the darkest of my life. I was a girl who had been spoiled her whole life, who knew nothing of the world's cruelties. All I could think was, Why is the little tree I planted withering? I gave it enough water, enough sunlight, enough love.
I had cried until I couldn't breathe, begging and threatening him not to leave me. In the end, he had relented.
After that, I gave him money, status, the best resources. I slowly learned to control my explosive emotions. The way he looked at me finally started to have some substance. But my own sense of security had eroded completely.
So I had pulled out those papers, time and time again.
At first, he would sigh and coax me. Later, he would just frown and tell me to stop making a scene.
Until now.
He probably thought I was still playing the same old game, using the threat of divorce to win his affection.
I calmly twisted the ring off my finger and tossed it into a nearby trash can.
"There won't be a next time."
04
Before I left, I called my family's lawyer and instructed him to start the proceedings for asset division. I also sent a team to our house to itemize everything Elara had ruined and bill her for the full replacement cost.
Once everything was arranged, I opened my group chat with my best friends.
"The Crimson Room tonight. My treat. Who's in?"
The Crimson Room was the city's most notorious playground for the rich and hedonistic.
My message set off a firestorm.
"What's going on? Has the great Victoria Vance given up her role as the perfect wife?"
"Doesn't your husband hate it when you go to places like that?"
"I've screenshotted this. If you bail on us tonight, I'm sending this straight to your stone-cold husband."
I typed out a calm reply.
"We're getting a divorce."
The group chat exploded again. After a few brief replies, I turned off my phone.
Before heading to the club, I stopped at a salon. I had them do my makeup, bold and dramatic. I slipped into a black, backless dress and walked into our private room.
My friends had thoughtfully ordered a lineup of handsome male hosts for me. I picked one who looked clean-cut and bright.
After a few rounds of drinks, the man, who had initially been timid, started laying on the charm a little too thick. I was starting to get tired of it.
I excused myself for some fresh air, taking my drink out to the balcony that overlooked the main hall.
And there, in a secluded corner, I saw them.
From my vantage point, Elara, dressed in a server's uniform, was nestled perfectly in Rowan's arms.
"Elara, what do I have to do to convince you to quit this job? I've told you, this place is dangerous. A woman like you could get hurt."
Tears streamed down her face. "Yes, my job isn't as stable as yours in your fancy skyscraper, but it pays for my life and my dreams. Besides, I still owe Miss Vance money. I don't have a choice."
"I'll give you the money. You don't have to worry about any of that. All you have to do is..."
Elara suddenly turned away from him, her shoulders shaking with pathetic sobs. "I don't want your money. You know I befriended you for your soul, not your wallet..."
I was marveling at her performance when a male voice spoke beside me. "Miss, don't let that woman fool you."
I turned. It was the host from my room. He had a perfectly charming smile, but I was in no mood to appreciate it.
"What do you mean?"
"That woman is a pro. This is the third time this month I've seen that guy here with her. It's the same story every time. She plays the poor, noble artist, all while dropping hints to make him feel sorry for her."
"I've seen her type a million times. They're all just playing the long game." He suddenly looked a little embarrassed. "Miss, I'm not like her. I genuinely like you..."
I took a small sip of my drink. "And the guy?"
He seemed encouraged. "He's a fake. Look at him, dressed to the nines. Obviously loaded. But I've never seen him wear a ring on his left hand, even though you can see the mark. He's playing the hero, trying to save the damsel in distress. It's a classic rich guy move. Got a steak at home, but he still wants a hamburger on the side..."
A small, wry smile touched my lips. I clinked my glass against his. "Go on, open a few more bottles. Put it on my tab."
I heard his delighted thanks from behind me as I took another sip of my drink.
And then my eyes met Rowan's.
In the silent space between us, his expression darkened.
"What are you doing here?"
"Isn't it obvious?" I replied lightly. "I'm relaxing."
"Come home with me."
I leaned my elbows on the glass railing and gestured with my chin towards the hallway behind him. "She's getting away."
Elara's scurrying figure disappeared around the corner. Rowan hesitated for a moment, then walked towards me.
"I'll take you home."
"No, thank you. I'm not short on people to take me home. And besides, I don't particularly care for that home anymore."
Rowan's voice turned sharp. "Is that man from earlier what you're talking about? A man like that..."
"What kind of man?" I asked, my tone dismissive. "If I remember correctly, weren't you also that kind of man once?"
I knew it was the one part of his past he could never accept.
His face turned to stone. He turned and walked away without another glance in my direction.
05
I had no contact with Rowan after that night. The news of our impending divorce spread like wildfire. Because of the large sums and complex assets involved, the process was taking time.
While I was busy indulging in a life of hedonism, Rowan was not idle. He had managed to secure Elara a spot as the solo violinist for the next major concert.
When a friend offered me a ticket, I cleared my schedule and went, dressed to the nines. I wasn't there to cause a scene. I just wanted to see how far he would go for her.
Even though I had prepared myself, the sight of the concert hall filled with a sea of blue and pink flowers still took my breath away.
"I heard Mr. Vance sent all these flowers for Miss Elara."
"How romantic! Eustomas for unchanging devotion, and white plum blossoms for silent protection... He's the ultimate romantic!"
"But isn't he married? Is this an affair?"
"You don't know about his wife? She's got a pretty face, but that's it. A classless, nouveau riche woman who used underhanded tactics to trap him into marriage"
"Miss... Miss Vance! You're here!"
My gaze swept over the group of gossiping women.
"It's fine," I said. "Please, continue."
Their faces turned beet red. "Miss Vance, please don't misunderstand," one of them stammered. "We were just repeating rumors..."
I gave them a generous smile. "It's alright. Rumors are often wrong. As for whether my tactics are underhanded... I suppose you'll all find out soon enough."
I turned and walked away, not bothering to look at their pale, frightened faces.
The concert went off without a hitch. I didn't cause any trouble. I just sat there, and as Elara played, my eyes were fixed on Rowan in the audience.
He sat perfectly straight, his hair impeccably styled. A delicate white rose was pinned to his lapel, seeming to bloom in time with the soaring music. Even from a distance, the look of utter adoration on his face was a knife to my heart.
I sat in the darkness, forcing myself to confront the truth, over and over again.
He had never loved me.
After the final bow, Elara, clutching a massive bouquet, walked over to him. "Rowan, that last piece... I played it for you. Did you like it?"
He reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, his voice impossibly soft. "I loved it."
That's it, then, I thought.
I wiped a tear from my eye and stood up to leave, only to be enveloped in a sudden, tight hug.
"Victoria! I finally found you!"

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