He had drive. I could see that much. So I took him under my wing without making it obvious, feeding him my management experience piece by piece, mentoring him in ways he never recognized as mentoring. Behind the scenes, I had HR promote him step by step until he sat in the president's chair.
I never revealed who I really was. I didn't want to shatter his confidence.
Over time, he confessed his feelings. I said yes.
Not long after we got together, he proposed we split all expenses fifty-fifty. He said other men's wives were strong, independent women, and I shouldn't fall behind.
I agreed without hesitation. That arrangement had lasted until now.
What I never expected was that his own fifty-fifty rule would be the thing that exposed his betrayal.
Damian came home shortly after.
I didn't spare him a glance. My eyes stayed on my phone, typing out a reply to a client.
He noticed. His brow furrowed, and he stormed over.
"Hilda, are you seriously still on this? It was condoms. I forgot to split the cost with you. Is that really worth giving me attitude?"
I said nothing. My fingers kept moving across the screen.
"Are you mute?" He hurled his briefcase onto the couch and stalked into the bathroom.
Through the door, I caught fragments of his phone call.
"Ellie, the company just landed a few major clients. If I start a fight with her right now, it'll leave a bad impression."
"Don't be upset. You're the most important person in my life. Tomorrow I'll get you that promotion and a raise. And I've already got your birthday present ready."
Minutes later, he emerged in a loose bathrobe. A lipstick-red mark bloomed on the side of his neck, unmistakable against his skin.
He caught me looking and yanked the collar higher. Irritation replaced the brief flash of guilt.
"Hilda, enough already!"
"I work myself to the bone every single day, and all you do is pick fights and accuse me of cheating!"
"Instead of going out and finding clients of your own, you sit here nitpicking over nothing. Why are you so much more trouble than every other woman?"
I smiled, cold and thin, and held up my phone. Eleanor's social media post filled the screen.
"Then explain this. I thought you were meeting clients?"
He froze. The color drained from his face for half a second.
"She deleted that—"
The words left his mouth before his brain caught up. He clamped his jaw shut, but it was too late.