On the 28th floor of a building in New York, Leon Carter was sitting in his office doing his work. He was a 36-year-old man, married to Emli eight years ago, and had a 6-year-old daughter named Lila. He usually stayed away from home and visited his family once or twice a year.
He received a message:
"Emli and I just landed and will be heading up to the mountain soon. Lila is excited and I'll send you photos later."
He read the message and locked his phone without even replying.
He thought, "She didn't even ask if I'd be able to come or not like she used to even though she knows I won't."
Back in the university in Florence, Emily was an art student. There were paints under her nails, and Leon he was already networking at internship galas was holding a briefcase when they first met.
She laughed at him because of how serious he was at the age of 22. She had dreams of opening her own gallery and traveling to beautiful places.
They made promises on rooftop cafes and under rainy train station lights the kind of promises young people make in relationships.
Leon had kept his promises at least he believed he had. He bought her a house near the coast and paid for her studio space. He sent gifts on birthdays, anniversaries, and whenever he couldn't be home when he should have been.
He believed that love was about providing and sacrificing time to build a future. But now, he wasn't sure.
Emily had started taking more trips over the last year always with Lila. Sometimes to her parents' cottage. Other times, just the two of them at some quiet seaside town. At first, Leon hadn't questioned it.
He was thankful that Emily was a nurturing mother and was happy they were spending time together.
But he had a sense of unease because she had stopped asking if he could come.
That night, an old friend from his home country came to meet him for a drink. His friend had come to New York for his office work, so they decided to meet.
While sipping a glass of scotch, his friend told him something strange:
"I saw Emily in Zermatt a few months ago, up near the ski lodge. She looked well. Lila was with her. And some guy maybe a friend or cousin?"
Leon replied, "Emli doesn't have a cousin."
"Maybe just a friend, then. They looked close. Lila also seemed to know him well," said his friend.
The conversation shifted to politics after that, but Leon kept thinking about what his friend had said.
Later that night, after his friend left, Leon scrolled through Emily's Instagram account. There were mostly photos of Lila on vacation or playing. Sometimes, there was another child a boy with Lila. Occasionally, a man appeared in the background, not clearly visible.
Most of the photos had no tags, no captions, and no names. Just little moments that didn't include him.
Leon had never been the jealous type. He always believed in trust, in giving space. But this wasn't about suspicion. It was about realization.
He couldn't remember the last time Emily had laughed with him the way she smiled in those pictures.
The next morning, Leon called his assistant.
"Cancel the Hong Kong flight. I need the week."
"Yes, sir. Should I inform the board?" his assistant asked.
Leon replied, "Tell them I have personal matters to attend to."
For the first time in years, he packed a suitcase without a tie inside. No briefcase. No watch collection.
Just a coat. Gloves. And an old Polaroid photo of Emily from Florence her paint smeared hands cupping his face.
He didn't know what he was going to find. But he needed to know.
Not for accusations.
For truth.
For closure.
Maybe for a second chance.
End of Chapter 1