Chapter 4

Later, I met Vanessa in the elevator.

The doors closed, leaving us alone inside a mirrored box. She looked me over slowly, from my plain black pumps to the chain hidden beneath my blouse.

"I've never understood why Adrian wanted a secret marriage," she said. "When we were together, he was so possessive. He wanted everyone to know—"

"We're legally married," I cut in.

Her smile disappeared.

"You can hate it. You can pretend it doesn't count. But until the divorce is final, I'm his wife and you are the ex who keeps inserting herself into someone else's marriage."

Her mouth tightened.

I stepped out when the doors opened and didn't look back.

That night, Adrian didn't come home.

He sent the house manager to collect clothes and moved into the apartment he kept near the office. He had bought it before our marriage for late nights at Hale Group. After the wedding, it sat empty so long that Grandpa Hale used to tease him about finally becoming domesticated.

I had been absurdly happy every time Grandpa said it.

When the front door shut behind the last suitcase, I sat alone in the living room and felt lighter.

Adrian could come and go whenever he wanted. Yet, I had spent three years arranging my life around his movements.

For the first time, I didn't have to wait up, listening for his car.

We didn't speak for nearly a month.

I buried myself in the final stage of the Hale account. Then, two weeks before launch, my director called me into his office.

"The client requested a staffing change," he said.

"What kind of change?" I asked.

He wouldn't meet my eyes.

"They don't want you on the account."

The room seemed to tilt.

"I've poured everything into this project for six months."

"I know, and your work has been flawless. But this isn't about your work. Hale Group is the client, and Director Quinn has final sign-off."

"Vanessa asked you to remove me?"

"She said the working relationship had become difficult. I can't risk the contract over one team assignment. My promotion had depended on that account. So had the bonus I'd worked toward all year."

I walked out of the office and dialed Adrian's number.

It went straight to voicemail.

I tried once more, only to hit the exact same wall.

The realization hit me harder than a slap: he had blocked me.

Ms. Carter answered when I called her office line.

Ms. Carter lowered her voice. "Mr. Hale is overseas. Before he left, he gave Director Quinn full authority over the campaign. I don't know anything about the staffing request."

By afternoon, someone else had my title on the project plan.

Within a week, the office story had changed. Vanessa wasn't Adrian's ex anymore. She was his fiancée. I was the jealous account manager who had challenged her in an elevator and been thrown off the project.

"Bad luck," I heard one coworker whisper. "You don't pick a fight with the future Mrs. Hale."

"My friend works there," another said. "Vanessa still has an old photo of them as her phone background. They've basically been together forever."

I wanted to turn around and tell them I was Mrs. Hale.

I wanted to show them the marriage certificate tucked away in my desk at home.

But what would that prove?

Just that my husband had built a reality where no one could imagine I belonged to him?

My director moved me to a support team. The work no one wanted came to me first. Twice a week, I was sent to inspect installation sites because the senior staff said they were too busy.

The sites were loud, dusty, and badly managed. I complained once about missing barriers near an active construction area. But my new supervisor told me not to be difficult.

It was a violently windy Thursday. I stepped out of the site trailer, pinning a clipboard under my arm.

Then, a sharp yell from above.

I looked up just in time.

A metal warning sign had ripped free from the second-floor walkway.

I didn't even have time to flinch.

The steel frame slammed into me, pulling me under.