Chapter 6 Going Out to Look for a Job

Natalie's POV

Five days after coming home from the hospital, I opened the closet and dug out that white shirt dress. Hadn't worn it in five years, but it still fit.

When Logan came out of the bedroom with his water glass, he stopped mid-step.

"You going somewhere?" His eyes moved from my face down to the dress.

"Yeah." I bent down to tie my shoes and didn't bother explaining.

"So dressed up." He let out a dry laugh. "You even did your makeup. What's the occasion?"

"No occasion. Just want to go out for a bit." I stood up and grabbed my bag from the entryway.

His eyes lingered on me for a second longer than they needed to. After all these years of marriage, I knew him too well — he was suspicious.

"Just going out?" He leaned against the door frame. "Are you hiding something from me?"

"Logan, why so many questions today?" I opened the door. "Drop Aiden off at preschool for me. I'm running late."

The first interview was at ten in the morning. Forty minutes by subway.

My phone started buzzing.

Logan's texts and missed calls came in one after another: "Honey, where are you going?"

"Aiden's preschool has a parent-child activity today. The teacher said parents need to be there."

I was still reading his messages when he called.

"Why aren't you answering my texts? Why didn't you pick up?" He sounded stressed and irritated.

"My phone was on silent. I was in an interview."

"An interview?" His voice dropped low. "You're looking for a job?"

"Yes." I stood at the subway exit. The sunlight was sharp. "I sent out some resumes and got called in today."

"Why didn't I know about this?"

"I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

"Natalie!" He hissed, then forced himself to lower his voice. "You have a perfectly good life at home. Why do you need to go get a job?"

I hadn't worked in five years. It was time.

The interview went better than I expected. The director was flipping through my resume and paused when she got to the five-year gap. She looked up at me.

I said, "I want a fresh start."

She closed the resume and said something that left me speechless for a few seconds: "You can start next Monday."

When I went to pick up Aiden from preschool that afternoon, Logan showed up too. He came toward me quickly, looking tense. There were too many people around, so he just said under his breath, "We'll talk in the car."

The moment we pulled into the parking garage, Logan exploded.

"What do you think you're doing?" He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. "A decision this big, and you didn't even talk to me first?"

"I did tell you." I unclipped my seatbelt. "I told you this morning."

"You said you were going out for a bit!" He glared at me, a vein standing out at his temple. "You lied to me?"

I looked at him and almost laughed. He'd lied to me so many times, and now he couldn't handle one from me?

"Logan, I just want to go back to work." I pushed the car door open. "I don't need your permission."

Over the next few days, he tried everything to stop me.

Day one, he said the company had bad reviews online and didn't pay on time. I pulled up Google right in front of him — the company was doing fine, not a single negative review. He looked annoyed but had nothing to say.

Day two, he said Aiden was sick. I took Aiden to the doctor. After a thorough check, the doctor looked up and said, "He's perfectly healthy. Nothing wrong at all." Logan stood there next to Aiden and didn't say a word.

Day three, he said his mom was coming to visit, and I should hold off on starting work to spend time with her. I called her myself. She said, "Oh, I'm planning to come next month." I glanced at Logan. He looked away.

On the evening of day four, after Aiden fell asleep, I sat in the living room going through my onboarding paperwork. Logan came over with a bowl of sliced fruit and sat down beside me. His voice was almost unsettlingly gentle. "Honey, I've been thinking, and you're right. If you want to work, go ahead. I won't stop you."

I looked at him and said nothing.

"But —" he paused. "Can you do me one favor first? I have a really important client coming next week, and I need you there for dinner. Just one dinner. After that, you can work all you want. I promise I won't say another word about it."

"Why would your client need me there?"

"He's in building materials. Very big on family values. If he sees we're a happy couple, he'll sign the contract without hesitation. Honey, this deal matters a lot to us. Just this once."

I held his gaze for a few seconds.

"Fine." I nodded. "Send me the time and place."

He visibly relaxed and went to the kitchen, smiling.

He left his phone on the couch. The screen lit up.

My eyes drifted over — a WeChat message from a contact saved as "Brianna."

"Babe, when is she leaving? I changed the sheets."

My fingers slowly curled into a fist, nails pressing into my palm.

I picked up my phone and took a photo of the message. Then I flipped his phone face down on the couch and walked to the bedroom.

I had just closed the door when my phone buzzed again.

Not Logan this time. It was Brianna, messaging me directly.

I opened it- a video. Brianna was in a dark red slip dress, half-lying on a bed with grey sheets, hair down, playing with Logan's lighter. She smiled at the camera, then tilted the phone —

Logan's back came into frame. He was unbuttoning his shirt.

Fifteen seconds. Every single frame cut right through me.

Brianna's caption was one line: "Natalie, heard you're going back to work? Good luck — after the divorce, you'll need to support yourself." There were also photos of Logan in her kitchen.

My hand was trembling, cold from my fingertips all the way to my chest.

But I didn't cry.

I saved the video and forwarded it to Ralph, then typed: "Enough evidence. Confronting him tomorrow."

Ralph replied instantly: "The petition is ready. I can file anytime."

I pulled the divorce petition from my bag — the one Ralph had prepared for me days ago. I held it in my hands. Just a few thin pages, but it felt like a stone.

I took a slow, deep breath and opened the bedroom door.

Logan was lying on the couch watching TV. He looked up, surprised. "Not sleeping yet?"

I opened Brianna's video and held my phone up in front of him.

His own back, clear as day.

Every bit of color drained from his face.

He opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, I set the divorce petition on the coffee table.

"Logan." I looked at him, each word slow and steady. "I want a divorce."