My Wife vs. a Mango… Guess Who Won?

After all, the project was a gift for my new employer, so I couldn't afford any mistakes. I buried myself in work at the office, working nonstop through the nights.

My coworkers noticed and started whispering among themselves in the group chat that I was not in.

"See, I told you so. Mr. White only makes five thousand dollars a month. He relies on Ms. Johnson for everything. How did he even have the nerve to throw a fit?"

"The company is doing so well now. If it weren't for his connection with Ms. Johnson, we wouldn't even need him here."

"I heard that back when Ms. Johnson was starting the company, he was the one holding her back. Otherwise, the company would have gone public years ago."

Steven screenshotted every one of those messages and sent them to me privately.

He pretended to comfort me. "Jason, I know that marrying someone as capable and sharp as Irie must make you feel insecure. But I have to tell you, a man who only knows how to work can't attract women. They still prefer men like me—young, handsome, and in good shape."

I laughed as I listened to his pretentious voice. "Alright then. I'll have HR fire you tomorrow, so you won't have to worry about failing to attract women."

After that, I blocked him and stopped responding.

…

Ten minutes later, Irene called, clearly ready to give me a piece of her mind.

Her voice was fierce. "Jason, what did Steve do to upset you this time? It took me so much effort to coax him into coming to Parille for a trip so he could forgive your rudeness at the celebration dinner, yet now you've made him upset again. Can't you go a single day without causing trouble?"

Forgive? Who? Me?

I found it amusing. As I printed out the drafted divorce agreement, I asked casually, "When are you and Steven coming back? We need to talk about the divorce."

Irene's breath caught on the other end of the line, and I could hear the anger in her voice through the phone. "Jason, are you done yet? There's a limit to how much pouting and jealousy I'll put up with. If you keep being unreasonable, I'm really going to get angry."

I froze for a moment, then couldn't hold back a laugh. I had already printed out the divorce agreement in black and white. Why would I be afraid of her getting angry now?

"I'll sign the divorce agreement and leave it on your desk. Make sure to check it when you get back."

A loud crash echoed through the phone. Irene kicked a chair across the room, gritting her teeth as she snapped, "Fine. Don't you regret this!"

She hung up on me. I shrugged and signed the divorce agreement.

…

The next morning, the moment I woke up and unlocked my phone, I saw the messages from Irene. She looked like she hadn't slept all night.

At 4:00 am, she even posted a public update on social media. In the photo, Irene and Steven stood before the hotel's floor-to-ceiling windows, their fingers tightly interlaced. The caption read, "Through seven years of ups and downs, I'm glad that I've had you by my side."

Tens of thousands of comments piled up beneath the post, most speculating about their relationship.

One of the comments read, "It's finally official! Is this the husband Ms. Johnson's been hiding for years?"

Irene didn't respond, but she pinned a shushing-face emoji at the top of the comment section.

Then she posted an announcement in the company's main group chat. "With immediate effect, Steven Carter will take over Jason White's manager position. The Eurentia project will be reassigned to Mr. Carter, and he will attend tonight's launch in Mr. White's place."

She knew that I had been working around the clock for 39 days abroad just for this deal. She also knew that to secure this partnership, I spent my days organizing materials and my nights networking, drinking until I felt like I was going to throw up.