In that case, I really should thank Charlotte. She forced me to see reality. She gave me the courage to take this step.
Seeing my prolonged silence, Walter lost his patience.
He lunged forward. Fingers tangled in my hair. He dragged me toward the mirror.
"Everything you have was given to you by me!" he roared. "You haven't worked for three years. If you leave me, you won't survive a week."
He shoved my face toward my reflection. "If you don't go apologize, I'm cutting off your cards. Let's see how long you last then."
He released me.
Stormed out.
Slammed the door.
I tilted my head, studying my reflection in confusion.
Why did he think I was a canary that couldn't fly?
I hadn't worked for three years because I had dedicated my body and soul to IVF treatments. It had been *his* suggestion. He had sworn that even if I never worked again, he would support me for a lifetime.
Now, he used that sacrifice as a weapon to stab me.
Had he forgotten that when his company was just a startup, its initial reputation was built by me—the desperate, tenacious woman who fought tooth and nail for every contract?
Not long after Walter left, my phone buzzed. A message from Charlotte.
I tapped it open.
And froze.
Photos flooded the screen.
Explicit.
Brazen.
Obscene.
The protagonists were unmistakably Walter Dickerson and Charlotte Matthews.
Walter had one ironclad rule in bed: no kissing.
Even if I initiated it, he would push me away. If I persisted, he would stop everything and leave the room, no matter how far things had progressed.
But in these photos?
He and Charlotte were kissing with a desperate, consuming intensity.
I scrolled through the images, my expression blank, and clicked save.
Charlotte was as malicious as she was foolish. I had been worried about finding concrete proof of their affair for the divorce filing, and here she was, delivering it on a silver platter.
---
On the day of my flight, I felt lighter than I had in years.
Just before boarding, a text from Walter popped up on my screen.
*Have you reflected enough? Charlotte is waiting in the hospital for your apology.*
I lowered my gaze. My fingers danced lightly over the keyboard.
*Let's divorce.*
