Love Ends, Freedom Awaits

I didn't wait.

After sending a quick text to my lawyer about starting the divorce process, I went to bed early.

In the middle of the night, a notification from WhatsApp woke me up. It was 1 a.m., and as expected, the other side of the bed was still empty.

I checked my phone and saw several messages from Jenna.

[Brandon is just so hot!]

[I wanna eat him up while he's sleeping!]

Attached was a photo of Brandon asleep. His head rested on her pink cartoon pillow, his hair tousled, lips slightly parted in a way that once made my heart skip a beat.

When she saw the "typing…" indicator appear at the top of the chat, Jenna quickly deleted the messages and sent me an emoji of a cat begging for forgiveness.

[Oops! Meant to send those to my bestie, but accidentally sent them to you. I was just messing around--don't be mad! Brandon's already knocked out.]

She probably expected me to blow up her phone with angry calls, like I had before.

But this time, I just blocked her and went back to sleep.

Whether she was playing games or being serious didn't matter anymore.

The next morning, they showed up at work together.

Jenna, always trying to be delicate, tripped over her own feet, her face going pale with fear.

Without hesitation, Brandon scooped her up and carried her into the office.

Her cheeks flushed, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, glancing back at me with a smug grin.

One of my coworkers sidled up to me, whispering, "Can you believe that girl? Jenna doesn't even know how to work the copier, let alone anything else. How has she been Mr. Louis's secretary for half a year? You don't think he's, like, actually into her, do you?"

I was busy texting my lawyer and nodded absentmindedly. "Maybe."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I heard Brandon's voice. "Sylvia, come with me."

I turned around to find him standing right behind me, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

No one in the office knew we were married. Brandon was adamant about enforcing the company's no-office-romance policy, so to everyone else, I was just another senior employee.

At work, he always kept his distance. Once, when I had a 104-degree fever and could barely stand, I went to him, hoping he'd take me to the hospital. But he brushed me off, worried about what people might think, and told me to get HR to give me the day off.

Yet, if Jenna so much as whispered about a stomach ache, Brandon would cancel meetings and rush her to the doctor.

I followed him into his office, watching as he gently told Jenna to go rest in the back room.

Once we were alone, Brandon came over and grabbed my hand, his voice low. "Still mad?"

I pulled my hand away, keeping my tone distant. "I told you, I'm not mad."

He placed his hands on my shoulders, his eyes drilling into mine. "Don't lie to me. I didn't come home last night, and you didn't even call or text. And you expect me to believe you're not upset?"

I frowned, confused. "Jenna was with you, right? She's your secretary. She'd take care of you."

His expression darkened, and his grip on my shoulders tightened.

I winced from the pressure and tried to pull away. In the struggle, he shoved me onto the couch. As I pushed myself up, my hand brushed against something. I tugged at it and pulled a pink lace bra from between the cushions.

The anger drained from Brandon's face as soon as he saw it. "That's…"

I didn't care to hear his explanation. I tossed the bra back onto the couch, my voice calm. "If there's nothing else, I'll be going, Mr. Louis."

After work, I had a meeting with a client. Just as I stepped outside, Brandon's car pulled up in front of me. "Get in. We'll drop Jen off first, then head to that seafood buffet by the water."

Jenna poked her head out from the passenger seat, grinning. "Sorry, Sylvia, I'm hitching a ride again!"

I was busy trying to hail a cab, and without looking at her, I said, "You two go ahead. I'm allergic to seafood."

Brandon's face turned dark immediately. He knew I wasn't allergic to seafood. In fact, that buffet was one of my favorites.

He opened his mouth, ready to say something, but I didn't give him a chance. I walked around his car and got into a cab across the street.