Wifey's Infatuation With the Intern

I leaned back in my chair with a cold snort.

"So you sent your secretary here just to ask me that?"

On the other end, Lisa's voice lost all patience, sharp with threat.

"So what if I broke a promise? You shouldn't make a scene over something so trivial! Unblock me right now, fix Shawn's code, and we'll call it even."

My jaw tightened. I was about to hang up when I heard laughter in the background—people teasing Shawn for wiping the sweat off her forehead. Sounded like they were Shawn's family.

I sneered.

"You're meeting Shawn's parents. Why bother calling me at all? Aren't you worried people might get the wrong idea? Oh, wait—you're right. In this whole company, I'm the only one who ever 'misunderstands.'"

Her voice suddenly spiked, shrill with anger.

"What are you saying? Don't spout nonsense! Shawn's family lives in a remote village. As his boss, what's wrong with showing concern? Only someone with a filthy heart sees filth everywhere!"

She was so furious she was gasping for air. Just then, a boyish voice chimed in nearby, "Lisa, my mom's cooked. Let's go in and eat."

In an instant, her tone melted into syrupy gentleness, like coaxing a child.

"Alright, Shawn. Go eat first. I'll come after I finish this call."

Then she turned her focus back to me, her voice cold as steel.

"Grayson, you'll have the program fixed and submitted within three days. If the schedule is delayed, you'll bear the breach of contract, resign in disgrace, and take the blame!"

She hung up violently.

I gave a bitter laugh. I should have faced the truth long ago: Lisa never loved me.

From the first time she ditched me for Shawn, the first time she lashed out at me on his behalf, I should have woken up. From the moment she signed the divorce papers, I should have known there was no going back.

I had no mood left for photos. I changed clothes and went back to the hotel.

My phone showed over a hundred missed calls—all from colleagues. Dozens of documents were flooding my corporate account, urging me to advance the project.

Only now did they realize I was the only one capable of handling it.

But in three days, I'd be divorced and resigned. Their breach of contract had nothing to do with me.

I submitted my resignation through the company system.

I thought Lisa wouldn't let me go easily, that she'd drag things out in a power struggle.

Unexpectedly, the process flew by. Within half an hour, everything was approved. Normally, resignation takes at least a day or two. Without her say-so, it would've been impossible.

She was even more ruthless than I had imagined.

Fine. Without the endless barrage of work messages, I felt lighter instantly.

As planned, I spent three carefree days enjoying myself before returning home to the apartment we had renovated together—the home we had clung to even in the hardest days of our startup.

Back then, we worked late into the night, came home exhausted, collapsed on the couch, and pressed the ache from each other's backs.

Life was hard, but those memories were sweet beyond words.

But later, Lisa almost never came home. She traveled the world with Shawn under the guise of business trips, while his social media was filled with check-ins at tourist spots.

I touched the pillow she once gave me. It was still soft, yet covered in dust—like our love, suffocating me to tears.

I knew there was nothing left here worth holding on to.

So I contacted an agent to sell the apartment.

The next day, I went to the company to pack my things.

Colleagues clustered in small groups, whispering as I carried my box past them. Word of my resignation had clearly spread.

Just as I reached the office door, Shawn stepped in front of me.

"Grayson, are you done fixing the code for my project?"

Then his gaze fell on the box in my arms. His face twisted in surprise.

"Grayson… why have you packed your belongings? Don't tell me you've resigned!"