The Quiet Exit

Through the narrow gap in the door, I caught sight of Donald pressing Chelsea hard against the floor-to-ceiling window.

Beyond the glass, the city glowed in endless layers of light.

Inside that room was my wife, tangled in an intimate moment with another man.

Donald bent down and brushed his lips along her neck, his voice low and raw with desire.

"Chels, you've loved me all this time. Why did you end up marrying that deadweight instead? From middle school until now, you've never forgotten me. When are you finally gonna dump Will and come back to me?"

Chelsea leaned her head back slightly and drew an uneven breath before answering.

"Don't push me, Donald. When my dad jumped, he left behind millions in debt. Will stayed and paid every cent. I can't turn my back on him."

"Then what about me?"

Donald tightened his grip around her waist, his eyes rimmed with red.

"I came back the second I graduated, and you were already someone else's wife. What does that make me? Just this once," he murmured. "Chelsea, be mine. Let's finally live out the dream we lost when we were young."

While I was scraping by, suffering through everything alongside Chelsea, he had been overseas, living without a care in the world.

Now that things were finally turning around, he came back not only to take what I had built, but my wife as well.

The audacity!

Every nerve in my body urged me to burst through the door and rip them apart.

Just as I was about to move, Chelsea spoke again, rooting me to the spot. Her breathing was uneven, her voice low and strained.

"Alright. Just this once. After tonight, I'll be Will's woman completely. I'll lock down SkyTech Group's contract and give him the wedding in Cratesisle that he deserves. Promise me you'll…"

Before she could finish, Donald kissed her.

All the blood in my body turned ice-cold.

How could she sleep with another man and still plan to be my wife afterward?

What was I to her? A walking ATM to clean up her messes, or a trash bin that would take anything she threw at me?

Anger and disgust surged in me, making my whole body tremble. I almost lost control and charged in.

Just as I lifted my foot, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Victor Smart, the CEO of SkyTech Group.

[Mr. Conner, when can you start? We need you to host the bidding conference in three days.]

I looked at the two bodies tangled together on the couch, my chest tight with pain, and replied, [Tomorrow.]

I had a future worth fighting for.

I had a future that was worth protecting.

Throwing that away just to punch Donald wasn't worth it.

I took a steadying breath, slipped out quietly, went home, and packed the few things I owned.

I left my signed resignation letter and the divorce papers on the table. Resting on top was the wedding ring I bought for Chelsea with two years' worth of salary.

This time, it was truly over.

-

Three days later…

The SkyTech Group bidding conference was packed to the brim.

Chelsea wore a tailored designer suit, her makeup flawless. Upon closer inspection, her exhaustion still showed beneath the polish.

"What's wrong?" Donald said softly, his lips a mocking smile, his arm draped around her shoulders. "Still thinking about that loser, Will?"

"Don't say that," she replied. "He hasn't come home in three days…"

There was a flicker of unease in her voice. She frowned, then abruptly froze.

Not far away, I stood in a perfectly fitted suit, calmly chatting with several senior executives.

"Will!"

She rushed over, nearly out of control. She grabbed my arm, anger blazing in her eyes.

"Where have you been? Why didn't you come home for three days? What are you trying to pull, disappearing like that?!"

I looked at her with quiet detachment, as if she were a stranger.

"Well, well."

Donald followed close behind, contempt written all over his face.

"So you finally crawl out after hiding for three days? You're pushing thirty-five. Getting phased out was inevitable. What company would still want you? Chelsea keeping you around was already charity. Who are you trying to impress?"

I didn't answer. I didn't even bother pulling my arm free from Chelsea's grip.

I simply lifted my other hand and pointed toward the stage behind them.

"No company wants me, huh? Why don't you take a look at whose name is printed on the chairperson's podium?" I sneered.

Chelsea and Donald followed my gesture.

The moment they saw the nameplate on the evaluation committee table, the color drained from their faces.