Arthur’s jaw clenched as the room tilted around him. The guests sat in stunned silence, their wine glasses frozen mid-air. Nataphine looked like she wanted to vanish into the silk folds of her dress.

Annabelle, graceful as ever, poured herself a glass and took a slow sip.

“I didn’t want revenge,” she said, her voice now calm and resolute. “I wanted closure. And tonight, I got it.”

Arthur stammered, “You… you planned all this?”

“I planned a life with you. This was just the exit strategy,” she replied with a sad smile.

Nataphine rose from her seat, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t know about any of this…”

Annabelle met her gaze. “You weren’t supposed to. He’s a charming man—until he’s not.”

Then she turned to the guests. “Please, enjoy the dinner. There’s wine, music, and dessert. Let’s not waste a good party.”

As she walked away, Arthur called out, desperate. “Annabelle, wait—where will you go?”

She paused at the door, turning only slightly. “Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere I won’t be a footnote in someone else’s midlife crisis.”

And just like that, she walked into the night—leaving Arthur behind, surrounded by fine china, cold truth, and the bitter taste of consequences.