Ryan stepped forward, reaching past me to snatch the garment bag from the salesperson's hands.
"Oh, careful," he said, clutching it to his chest. "Ms. Galloway bought this for me. Not for... other men." He shot me a smug look. "You lot are blind. Stop praising the wrong person."
The air left the room.
The salespeople froze, smiles faltering. Their eyes darted from me to my bare ring finger to Mila.
Mila, usually ice-cold, looked at Ryan with a warmth I had never received. Doting. Indulgent.
"Do you like them?" she asked him, ignoring me entirely.
"I love them," Ryan replied, voice sugary. "But my apartment's so small... nowhere to keep all this."
"Leave them here, then," Mila said. "When you want to change, just come in. You don't need to ask."
Ryan beamed, shooting me a provocative look over her shoulder. He expected me to explode—wanted the jealous, impulsive husband of the past.
But that man was gone. I felt nothing but hollow resolve.
The salespeople held their breath. They'd walked into a minefield. The expensive "husband" gifts were for the assistant. The humiliation was absolute.
"Look at you," Mila chided softly. "Your collar's crooked. You're like a child."
She raised her hand—the same hand she'd scrubbed clean of my touch—and straightened Ryan's collar. Her fingers lingered. They stood so close their shadows merged.
The salespeople mumbled apologies and fled.
They would talk. By tonight, all of high society would know that David Weiss was the biggest cuckold in the city.
"Why stop at the collar?" My voice cut through like ice. "Why don't you two just strip naked and finish the job right here?"
Mila stiffened. She stepped away from Ryan and spun around, eyes blazing.
"David Weiss, have you had enough?" she snapped. "I've endured your attitude for a long time."
"Is that all you do? Stare at me and pick fights because you have nothing better to do?"
I loosened my tie, the silk feeling like a noose. Nothing to do? I barely had time to eat between saving her family's legacy and managing the chaos she created. Yet in her eyes, I was just a nuisance.
"You're mistaken," I said flatly. "I'm not looking for a fight. I'm simply done. I've reached my limit. Consider this your freedom—now you can flaunt your affection for that pretty boy without guilt."
"Divorce?" She scoffed. "That's your only threat?"
"I don't make threats. I make decisions."