Chapter 1

My wife fell for the office pretty boy.

At our anniversary gala, surrounded by her corporate clients, the tribute video I spent weeks crafting was suddenly swapped out for a montage of intimate moments between her and that kid.

She didn’t even flinch. Taking the mic, she casually told the crowd:

"Everyone at work says we make a dream team. None of our investors know my husband anyway, but seeing Liam by my side makes them confident in our brand."

Everyone watched, waiting for me to explode and make a scene.

Instead, I smiled and applauded.

Our marriage had been dead for months. I didn't want her anymore.

Liam Vance stood tall in his custom-tailored suit. Honestly, he looked more like the host of the evening than I did.

Clearly, they had planned this.

Without a word, I handed my speech cards directly to Liam, ignored the pitying smirks from the crowd, and walked out.

I strolled through the venue and all the way to the parking lot. My wife, Rachel, never came after me.

My departure was exactly what she wanted.

Fine by me. I’d been working on my feet since dawn and hadn’t eaten a bite all day.

I drove straight to a famous Michelin-starred restaurant downtown.

When we first got married, Rachel used to drag me here every weekend.

Somewhere along the line, the love in her eyes faded, taking five years of history down with it.

Rachel hated planning events; she always said logistics gave her a headache.

So I took care of everything. For two whole months, I obsessed over every detail—the floral arrangements, the catering, the VIP guest list, the minute-by-minute schedule.

When we got hitched years ago, we just did a quick destination elopement because that’s what she wanted. I had always dreamed of an actual celebration witnessed by our friends. This anniversary gala was supposed to be the reception we never had.

Knowing how tightly I’d managed every detail, I knew the video swap was no glitch.

I had spent nights editing that footage. It held every memory from our college days to our fifth year of marriage.

To watch our journey together get trashed like that… yeah, it stung.

But after enough quiet disappointments, you just go numb. By the time I left that hall, I felt completely detached.

I finished my dessert, swallowed the lingering bitterness, and made my choice.

After a hot shower back at our place, I collapsed onto the bed. My phone buzzed. Rachel.

"Austin, where the hell are you? I didn't know the closing schedule and almost embarrassed myself on stage!"

Her voice dripped with irritation, like I was an unruly assistant who abandoned his post.

I kept my tone neutral. "I went home. Why, do you need me back there?"

Silence on the other end.

"Whatever. The night wrapped up fine anyway. Stay where you are."

Click.

I knew she wouldn't call me back. The party was over; she just wanted quiet time with her boy toy without me getting in the way.

I pulled the sheets over my head. Planning that stupid gala had left me exhausted, and I needed the rest.

When I finally woke up, it was well past midnight. Rachel had just walked through the front door.

She had ditched her formal gown for an easy sundress. Her cheeks were flushed, clearly riding a high from the night.

The moment she spotted me on the sofa, her smile vanished.

"Why didn’t you answer my calls or texts earlier?"

I stretched on the couch. "I was asleep."