Chapter 1
After eight years of marriage, my husband’s ex posted a picture of a property deed on her social media.
Her caption: ‘Choosing a man is choosing your future.‘
At first, I was stunned. Then, out of sheer instinct, I left a comment: “It’s always better to rely on yourself.”
But she deleted it before I had a chance to retrieve it. Not five minutes later, my husband, James, called. I thought he’d ask about what happened.
Instead, he dove straight into yelling. “Lindsay’s struggling to pay off her mortgage. It’s tough for a woman on her own. What’s wrong with me helping her with a loan payment? Don’t I have the right to spend my own money? Stop causing trouble for her!”
In the background, I could hear Lindsay
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sobbing, with people around her murmuring in sympathy. I was stunned, frozen for a second, and James had already hung up and blocked me by the time I snapped out of it.
An hour later, Lindsay posted again. This time, a transfer agreement showed that she now owned 50% of the company’s shares.
This was James’s way of compensating her. To me, it felt like a deliberate challenge. But this time, I didn’t care.
When James finally came home that night, I had just thrown away the empty syringe from my pregnancy–preserving shot.
It was our second pregnancy, and at only two months in, I was already displaying symptoms that indicated a potential miscarriage. That morning, I noticed some bleeding and rushed to the hospital. The doctor said if I wanted to keep the baby, I needed to take daily shots right on time.
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But I hadn’t planned on telling James about the preg
pregnancy. I had planned a nice dinner to celebrate his birthday one last time. He promised he’d come home, but as day turned to night, all I saw was Lindsay’s gloating post. After that call, during which he accused me of causing trouble, I numbly got up and threw away the meal I had spent hours preparing.
When James walked in and noticed the empty dining table, he frowned, clearly irritated.
“Did you forget what day it is?”
Of course, I remembered. It was James‘ birthday.
No matter how busy I was every year, I’d take the day off, make his favorite dishes, and bake a cake from scratch. I never missed it, from my days as a junior employee to now as a senior manager.
But this year was different. This year was the last, and James hadn’t even bothered to
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come home on time.
Without looking at him, I scrolled through Lindsay’s old posts. It hit me then that since she started working as James’s secretary. She had been flaunting gifts from him. In just a year, she had received more than I had in eight years of marriage.
A sarcastic smile crept across my face. “Spent nearly a million on her, and she still couldn’t treat you to dinner?”
James didn’t see that coming, and his impatience flared. “What’s wrong with you? Those were year–end bonuses. Secretaries work hard, so I gave her more. What’s the big deal? Don’t you understand management? Isn’t that part of your job?”
“Oh, and do you also give your regular employees shares and river–view
mansions? You’re a pretty generous boss. Maybe I should quit my job and come work for you.”
His face darkened just as his phone chimed
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with a new message. Glancing at the screen, his expression softened, and a smile tugged at his lips. I didn’t need to ask.
It was Lindsay.
When he looked back at me, the anger was gone. “I’ve explained everything. And I didn’t even get upset about your comment on her post. If I had something going on with her, do you think I’d be here tonight? What am I, a masochist who enjoys your
cold stares?”
I ignored him and walked to the kitchen. Of course, he thought I felt guilty and was about to make dinner to smooth things
over.
“Forget it,” he sighed. “Don’t bother cooking this late. I’ll grab something from the cake shop. Can you imagine celebrating my birthday like this, dealing with your moods? What did I do to deserve this?”
As James spoke, I exited the kitchen, holding a trash bag. When he saw me
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heading for the door, he froze.
Turning to me with a wary look, he snapped. “I’m just going to buy a cake. Why are you following me? What do you think I’m going to do in an hour? You’re losing it. Why don’t you just put a surveillance camera on me while you’re at it?”
