His Secretary Wore My Nightgown—So I Walked Out of the Marriage

We had been planning our ninth-anniversary trip for nine months.

But despite my protests, Richard Coleman, my husband, insisted on bringing his secretary along.

His excuse? "Work can’t be neglected."

On the third day of the trip, I asked him for a divorce.

“Amanda Pierce, are you joking?! Are you seriously asking for a divorce?”

I nodded.

“Yes. Divorce.”

“We don’t need to keep living like this. Let’s just end it.”

——

He raised his eyebrows. “Reason?”

“Amanda, explain yourself clearly.”

I leaned against the window of our hotel room, gazing out at the Maldives’ turquoise waters.

This was supposed to be our romantic fifth wedding anniversary, a getaway I had spent half a year planning.

But now, that beautiful blue sea looked so harsh, it made me sick.

“You’ll know the reason soon enough.”

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Richard turned around. Standing at the door was his secretary.

“Mr. Coleman, the 10 a.m. conference call is about to begin,” Lauren Blake, his secretary, said in her deliberately sweet, soft voice.

She gave me a brief glance, the corner of her lips curling into a smug, fleeting smile.

I stayed calm.

“Richard, we’ve only been here two days and you've already had over a dozen conference calls with your female secretary, no less.”

“Day or night, you spend more time with her than with me. Do you honestly think this marriage is worth saving?”

He frowned. “Is there a problem with that? You know how important this merger is to me.”

“Merger?”

I took a step closer and stared him straight in the eye.

“For our fifth-anniversary trip, you brought three suitcases.”

“Two of them were stuffed with documents.”

“You didn’t pack a single thing for me not even your own swimsuit but you remembered to bring three dresses for Lauren.”

“Care to explain that?”

Richard was silent.

Lauren jumped in right on cue, wearing a fake, humble smile.

“Madam, it’s all my fault.”

“I didn’t manage the meeting schedule well and ended up interfering with your and Mr. Coleman’s plans.”

She bowed her head slightly, her bangs falling just right, pretending to be all innocent and wronged.

“Mr. Coleman’s under a lot of pressure lately,” she added. “He’s been forgetting things… please don’t blame him.”

I watched her performance, noticing how her fingers casually brushed against Richard’s wrist.

It looked accidental—but it wasn’t.

And he didn’t pull away.

“Ms. Blake.” I frowned. “I’m talking to my husband. You have no right to interrupt.”

Lauren immediately took a step back. “I’m sorry, Madam. It’s my fault.”

She looked at Richard, her eyes like a rain-soaked puppy—pathetic.

“Mr. Coleman, I’ll go prepare the meeting materials now. I won’t bother you anymore.”

“Wait.”

Richard grabbed her arm.

Then he looked at me, his eyes filled with that same stubbornness I knew too well.

“Amanda, don’t be unreasonable. You know how demanding my job is.”

“Oh? Demanding enough that you need to stay up in a hotel room until 2 a.m. discussing things with your female secretary?”

I pulled out my phone and opened the photo album.

“Demanding enough that she calls you ‘Richard,’ while I, your wife, have to make a dinner appointment in advance just to see you?”

Lauren’s expression shifted ever so slightly but she quickly masked it again with that practiced innocence.

“Madam, you’ve misunderstood.”

“Yesterday, there were just too many documents to go through and we…”