Chapter 5

The heavy glass door clicked shut.

Silence returned to the conference room.

Once the meeting was over, I packed up my laptop and walked back to my desk.

My phone screen was lit up with twenty-three missed calls.

All from him.

There were also seventeen unread texts on Snapchat.

The latest one read:

"I just called your parents. You can explain this mess to them yourself."

Staring at the screen, my fingers went completely cold.

He actually dragged my parents into this.

Did he think I would easily back down in front of them? Or did he think tattling to them would force me to apologize?

I opened my contacts, but before I could tap on my mother's icon, her incoming call screen took over.

"Chloe! Your father and I are worried sick! Your husband just called and said you were fooling around with some young guy from your office—"

"Mom, listen to me first."

"He said you want a divorce! What on earth is going on?"

I stood up, walked into the private breakroom, and shut the door behind me.

I placed the phone on the table and put it on speaker.

I poured myself a glass of water and took a slow sip.

"He made breakfast for a female coworker every single day for three years. He woke up an hour early to cook for her, plated it beautifully, and made sure she had fresh fruit."

"What?"

"Mom, that's over a thousand days. I was eating cheap, dry bagels while another woman was enjoying gourmet meals handcrafted by my husband."

The other end of the line went dead silent for a few seconds.

"Mom, I asked for a divorce. He refused, and then he barged into my office building and made a massive scene."

"He went to your office?"

"Just now. He interrupted my presentation, and security had to drag him out. Right after that, he called you to frame me for cheating."

My mother's voice instantly hardened.

"Sweetie, I’m on your side. Let's get you out of this marriage."

We exchanged a few more words before hanging up.

I leaned against the wall of the breakroom, finishing my water.

When we got married, my dad had had a few drinks. With tears in his eyes, he had patted Ethan's shoulder and said:

"She's my only daughter. You better treat her right."

Ethan had replied, "I promise, sir. You have nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about."

What a sick joke.

After work, I drove back to our neighborhood.

My hotel room was only booked for three nights, and staying there long-term wasn't a real solution.

I needed to grab some clothes and my legal documents from the apartment.

The garage lights were motion-activated. Since I drove in quietly, the lights didn't turn on.

As I got out of my car, something caught my eye in the dimness.

His car was parked not far away, headlights on.

There was someone inside.

I stepped back, hiding behind a concrete pillar.

A woman was sitting in the passenger seat.

She was leaning toward the driver's side, her hand resting comfortably on Ethan's shoulder.

He didn't pull away. He even tilted his head, smiling softly at her.

I raised my phone and took several crystal-clear photos.

Then, I walked out from behind the pillar and knocked sharply on the passenger-side window.

The woman startled, freezing in fear.

Ethan whipped his head around, his face draining of all color.

The window slowly rolled down.

I smiled at her, then at him.

"This must be your coworker with the delicate stomach. What's the matter? Did you guys need to digest your dinner in a dark car?"

He didn't say a word, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

The woman frantically unbuckled her seatbelt, trying to push the door open to escape.

I held the door shut with my hand.

"Don't run off just yet. I haven't taken a picture to send to our parents."