After the Divorce, I Belong to Him

"What a coincidence. I work at this company too." Harrison smiled like a fox.

I froze for a second, said nothing more to him, made an excuse about being busy, and hurried away.

But on my way home after work, I ran into Harrison again.

He greeted me and said, "Miss Fox, we really are fated. Even our staff apartments are in the same place."

This time I couldn't come up with an excuse, so I just stood there and made small talk.

From what he said, I learned that Harrison lived one floor above me, and had only moved in today.

All I could say to that was that it must be fate.

In the days that followed, I kept running into Harrison, and one thing led to another until we somehow became friends.

He seemed to have some feelings for me, but he kept just the right distance, so I never had the opening to break the silence and turn him down.

This slightly strange arrangement lasted three months, until I happened to see Walter.

After the divorce, I never went looking for news about him.

But things about him kept finding their way to my ears anyway.

He was now the most eligible bachelor in Harbor City.

Young, handsome, rich, his business growing bigger by the day, about to ring the bell and go public.

Most of all, he kept himself clean, not a single scandal to his name.

Every time I heard these things, an ache would well up inside me.

Because everything they said was true.

When Walter and I first started fighting, I was convinced for a while that he'd cheated.

Why else would he have changed so much?

How else could he have said I was worth less than a masseuse?

But I dug and dug, and found nothing.

It wasn't that he'd hidden it well. He truly hadn't done anything.

He hadn't fallen for someone else, hadn't strayed. He just simply... felt I wasn't good enough for him.

It hurt beyond words.

The thought made me lift a hand to wipe the tears from the corners of my eyes.

And it was exactly in that moment, looking up, that I saw Walter standing off in the distance.

He watched me in silence, standing there at the stove, and there was no tenderness in his eyes, only pity.

The pity of someone above looking down on someone beneath.

I turned my eyes away from him.

I didn't expect Walter to walk straight toward me.

He looked at me, brows drawn, his expression one of charity.

He said, "Greta, is this what your life came to without me?"

I ignored him.

He went ahead and opened his phone, and a moment later I got a transfer notification.

Walter had sent me a hundred grand. He said, "Greta, quit. Don't do this filthy work."

I couldn't hold it in. I looked up and snapped, "Walter, are you sick in the head?"

He didn't answer. He gave me a light, careless glance and left.

The next day, I got a message from HR.

I'd been promoted.

From the kitchen to the product division. It was absurd.

Most people in that office knew me. They'd all eaten in the staff cafeteria, they'd all seen me.

Which meant everyone knew I'd gotten in through the back door.

I sighed, took Walter off my blocked list, and called to ask him, "Walter, did you do this with my job?"

He gave a soft laugh. "Greta, I happen to have a business partnership with this company, so I put in a word for you. No need to thank me."

"Who's thanking you—"

I hadn't finished my angry retort when a woman's voice came through from his end. "Walt, who are you on the phone with?"

"No one."

He answered her, hung up without hesitation, and gave me no chance to say anything more.

So he'd already moved on to someone new.

I stood there stunned, not sure whether I should feel sad, only that something inside me felt hollow.