“Mrs. Adam, just one question, please,” one of the reporters waiting at the door intercepted her.
“Is it true you have cancer, and that’s why you’re at the hospital?” one of them dared to ask.
Vanessa didn’t stop for a second as she exited the towering hospital building. Rain started to fall, soaking her final steps toward the black car waiting at the edge of the last stair.
“Mrs. Adam,” a female reporter pressed, “why isn’t your husband with you?”
“Is it true your marriage is on the rocks?” another shoved a microphone close to her face.
“Is it true your husband has someone else?”
“Are you infertile, and that’s why your marriage is struggling?”
Finally, Vanessa reached the black car door and slipped inside without a second thought. The chill hit her immediately as she felt the blast of the air conditioning.
“Home, Roger,” she instructed her husband’s driver, who was used to mapping out all her routes.
For a moment, as they pulled away from the reporters’ cameras, Roger caught a glimpse through the rearview mirror of Vanessa clutching a damp letter in her hands. She gripped the envelope so tightly it looked like her fingers might stick to it, and that piqued his curiosity.
“How did the appointment go?” he ventured to ask, worried it might be something serious.
Vanessa stayed silent for a few seconds, still processing the information she’d received.
“I don’t want Mr. Adam to hear about the ambush by the reporters, please…”
“Do you really think he won’t find out with all the photos they snapped at the entrance?”
Vanessa let out a heavy sigh.
“Of course I know my husband will find out,” she weighed her words. “I just need some time so that when he gets back from his business trip, I can have a solid excuse for this mess.”
“I think Mrs. Andrea will make sure her son knows about it ASAP. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who tipped off the press about your hospital visit.”
“Mrs. Andrea has no say in the relationship between her son and me. I’ll handle it myself.”
Roger fell silent, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. Though Vanessa’s voice sounded confident and authoritative, he knew full well that Mrs. Andrea was more than capable of turning her son against his wife.
Up to this point, Andrea had been a major source of conflict in Alejandro and Vanessa’s relationship. As Alejandro’s representative at the family company, “King,” her primary job was to protect her son’s image, and her secondary mission seemed to be discrediting her daughter-in-law. Under no circumstances would Andrea allow her son’s reputation to be dragged through the mud in some tabloid rag.
Upon arriving at the Adam building, Roger got out of the car first, holding a black umbrella to shield Vanessa from the rain until they reached the entrance.
“If you start feeling unwell again, please call me,” Roger said, visibly concerned as he bid her goodbye.
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, stepping into the building.
The two security guards stationed at the entrance nodded respectfully as she passed, and Vanessa headed straight for the elevator, pressing the button for the 13th floor.
In her mind, she rehearsed several speeches that might sound convincing enough to justify what had happened outside the hospital. It wasn’t the first time her husband had demanded she be more cautious, and this was the fourth time this month she’d been swarmed by flashing cameras, probing questions, and accusations. Alejandro had been absolutely furious the last time. Vanessa leaned against the cool aluminum wall of the elevator and closed her eyes, remembering the previous week:
“Can you explain what this is?” her husband had demanded angrily that day, slamming a magazine down on the table. The cover showed his wife supporting a girl who could barely walk as they tried to get into a taxi.
“It was Emma’s birthday, and…”
“They saw you leaving the King restaurant,” he cut her off sharply. “Ever since we got married, you’ve done nothing but drag my name through the mud!”
“I didn’t get drunk. I only had one glass of wine,” Vanessa explained, holding his gaze. “Can’t I have a private moment with a friend?”
“Of course you can!” he growled. “But if your outings with your friends are going to smear my last name, then you need to rethink your choices. This isn’t the first time you’ve been on the cover of a magazine. Come on, Vanessa!”
Alejandro grabbed the magazine with a firm, almost harsh gesture that startled Vanessa, and read the headline aloud:
“Wife of successful CEO Alejandro Adam, drunk at a bachelorette party.”
“I already told you I didn’t drink.”
The tabloids had spun a web of lies about that day to make sense of the photo, but it had just been a small dinner with friends.
“I don’t care what you do, just try to keep your nose out of my family name. You’re my wife, so everything you do reflects on me. Let this be the last time your face shows up in a magazine tied to my name,” he warned sternly.
The ding of the elevator announcing the top floor snapped her back to reality. She tightened her grip on the envelope in her hands, wondering if this would be the cause of yet another conflict. She believed it would be. This wasn’t the right time to share that news, so she’d keep the secret until she could no longer hide it.
She fished out her keys and unlocked her apartment, surprised to find the light in the entryway already on. Had Alejandro come home? The thought flashed through her mind until she saw the figure of her mother-in-law seated on the central sofa, a glass of white wine in her hand, legs crossed elegantly.