He Kept Me Poor,While His Mistress Wore My Heirloom

But not from business trips. He was exhausted from spending himself on another woman.

I sat in the dark for a long time. Once I was sure he was fully asleep, I stood up quietly, walked to the shoe cabinet, and took out the black phone again.

This time I went through it more carefully.

The chat history with Valerie was only the tip of the iceberg.

There were also conversations with his assistant, group chats with company executives, and bank transfer records.

“Mr. Gilbert, your flight and hotel for the trip to Chicago next week are booked. Same arrangement as usual, separate reservations from Miss Henson's.”

“Also, this month's allowance for your wife has been sent. $150.”

A hundred and fifty dollars.

He wired Valerie $150,000 without batting an eye.

My monthly allowance was $150.

That money had to cover utilities, groceries, and the occasional “family emergency” he invented whenever he needed cash.

The last time I bought myself clothes was last winter, an $8 puffer jacket from an outlet store.

The last time I ate out was two months ago, a bowl of beef noodle soup at a food cart.

Nine dollars. I'd stood there debating whether to add an egg.

I screenshotted every chat log and every transfer, one by one.

Over a hundred photos. My phone nearly ran out of storage.

It was past two in the morning by the time I finished. I slipped the phone back into his briefcase and crept into the bedroom.

The next morning, Robert was up early.

He stood in front of the mirror shaving, then pulled on that same dull gray jacket. He glanced at me as I sat up in bed, his tone identical to every other morning.

“I'll grab breakfast on the way. Fix yourself something.”

“Might be late tonight. Don't wait up.”

He picked up his briefcase, opened the door, and left.

I sat there for a while, then picked up my phone and texted my boss that I wasn't feeling well and needed the day off.

After washing my face, I caught my reflection by the door. My hair was a mess, my complexion sallow, the fine lines at the corners of my eyes impossible to miss.

Valerie was right. I didn't look thirty-one. I looked worse.

The bus rattled for forty minutes before I got off across the street from the Grandview Group tower.

The building was massive, flanked by a pair of stone lions at the entrance. Everything about it screamed money.

I crossed the street and headed for the front doors.

Security stopped me.

“Good morning. Who are you here to see?”

“Robert Gilbert.”

The guard looked me up and down, his expression saying everything his mouth didn't.

You? Here to see our CEO?

“Do you have an appointment?”

“If not, I can't let you in.”

None of this surprised me.

I stepped back outside, took out my phone, and called Valerie.

It rang several times before she picked up.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Her voice was lazy, like she hadn't gotten out of bed yet.

I told her the guards wouldn't let me in. She sounded annoyed but agreed to come down.

“God, what a pain. Wait there.”

I stood outside for close to half an hour before Valerie finally showed up.

The moment the guards saw her, their faces split into grins：“Good morning, Miss Henson.”

Valerie walked in with her chin high, and I followed behind her.

From the lobby to the elevator, every employee we passed stopped to greet her, men and women alike.

“Good morning, Miss Henson.”

“Morning, Mrs. Gilbert.”

“Hey, Val!”

She acknowledged each one, chin lifted, her heels clicking sharply against the marble.

In the elevator it was just the two of us. She leaned against the wall, slid her sunglasses off, and gave me a sidelong look.

“Sweetie, that outfit is a whole situation.”

“Let me tell you, if a woman can't even bother to dress herself up, she's got no right to complain when her man stops looking.”

The elevator reached the top floor and the doors opened.

Valerie stepped out first, her heels clicking across the polished marble.

She walked straight to the dark wooden door, didn't bother knocking, and pushed it open.

“Babe!”

She dragged out the word, her voice syrupy and coy.

The CEO's office was enormous, floor-to-ceiling windows framing the city skyline beyond.

Robert sat in the black leather executive chair, pen in hand, signing documents.

He heard her voice and looked up.

Then he saw me.

The pen froze mid-air.

“Honey?!”

“You……what are you doing here?”