The Billionaire Who Saved Me After You Broke Me

The following year, on my birthday, Chad spent several months' salary on a diamond necklace.

I told myself again that it was fine. We had all the time in the world.

But things kept drifting further from what I'd hoped.

Chad came home later and later. I reheated dinner more times than I could count. Some nights, he didn't come home at all. Even when we were intimate, it was rushed and perfunctory.

I tried talking to him. The answer was always the same.

"I'm exhausted from work. Don't overthink it. Just get some sleep."

I convinced myself it was nothing but work pressure, and I threw myself into finding ways to ease his burden. If I couldn't help with his career, I'd make up for it in the kitchen. I rotated the menu weekly, never repeating a dish. I believed that with enough effort, things would get back on track.

Then I met Eunice Maddox.

I'd gotten up early that morning to make Chad's favorite corn and pork rib soup, and I brought it to the university before lunch. When I reached his office door, I could hear him deep in a heated discussion about a physics problem with a female colleague beside him.

The woman looked up, a flicker of confusion in her eyes.

"Can I help you?"

I gestured toward Chad. "I'm here for Professor Harding."

In that single moment, I caught it—a flash of panic darting through Chad's eyes. The hand that had been resting on Eunice's back quietly dropped to his side.

I set the soup on the desk. Chad poured half of it into a bowl for Eunice.

During the small talk that followed, she turned to me.

"Are you part of the university too, Mrs. Harding? Do you study physics as well?"

I shook my head and started to explain. "We're not actually married—"

Chad cut me off. "No. She never went to college."

Eunice gave me a long, knowing look and let out a soft, measured "Oh."

My cheeks burned. My fingers dug into the edge of the desk so hard the knuckles went white. I wanted to disappear.

I carried the emptied containers home.

I stood at the kitchen sink for a long time, staring at nothing.

I regretted it. I regretted not going to college. I regretted not continuing with physics.

In high school, physics had been my best subject. Every problem Chad couldn't solve, I'd cracked with ease. Now I couldn't even follow the terminology he and Eunice tossed around like it was nothing.

The gap between us was widening, and for the first time, I felt the ground shifting beneath my feet.

So I decided to change.

I started reading the physics textbooks stacked on Chad's desk. Whenever I hit something I didn't understand, I wrote it down and waited for him to come home so I could pester him for an explanation.

His answer was always the same: "I could explain, but you wouldn't get it."

Still, I was happy. At least we had something to talk about.

What made me even happier was the day I found a lace nightgown while organizing the closet. It was exactly my size.

A secret thrill ran through me. I figured Chad had finally gotten the hint but was too shy to give it to me himself.

That evening, I changed into the nightgown before he got home, dabbed on perfume, and slipped under the covers.

I fought off sleep until well past midnight before the bedroom door finally opened.

But when Chad pulled back the blanket, there was no surprise on his face. No warmth. Nothing I'd imagined.

His brow furrowed. His voice came out flat and cold.

"That doesn't suit you."

"You'd need to be curvier to pull it off."

Then he scolded me for going through his things and ordered me to take it off.

I stood at the foot of the bed with nothing on.

He rolled over, turning his back to me, and fell asleep without another glance.

The humiliation swallowed me whole. I lay there with my eyes open until dawn, tears soaking half the pillow.