Chapter 2

"Why haven't you opened your laptop yet?"

Julian walked out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower.

"Don't use clocking out as an excuse, Chloe. You left the office at three this afternoon. Who gave you that privilege? Since you completely ignored company policy and left early, I'm docking your pay for the day. I'm the boss. What I say goes."

"I didn't leave early. I already—"

I was just about to tell him I had officially quit. But his phone suddenly rang.

A name flashed across the screen: Vanessa.

The hostility vanished from Julian's face in an instant. He practically snatched his phone to answer it.

"Nessa?"

His tone was gentle, dripping with a patience he had never once used with me.

"Julian... I'm so sorry. I really didn't want to bother you this late." Vanessa let out a soft sniffle. "But I'm looking at the Q3 sales reports, and I just have a few questions..."

"Listen to me, Nessa. Deep breaths." Julian lowered his voice, his face filled with aching concern. "What did the doctor say? With your mental state right now, you shouldn't even be looking at those damn reports. It's too late."

"But tomorrow's meeting..."

"Your health comes first," Julian said firmly. "Your depression makes you vulnerable to relapses. Go rest, right now. Or I swear I'm going to get angry with you. Do you hear me?"

The call ended.

When he turned back to face me, the warmth in his eyes instantly dropped below freezing.

"Did you see that?" He pointed his phone at me. "Vanessa is struggling with severe depression, barely able to breathe, and she's still pouring her heart into this company's projects. And what about you?"

"You do absolutely nothing but cling to your little 'CEO's wife' privileges. You're completely useless. You should really learn from her sense of responsibility and drive. She executes every single task flawlessly!"

I knew all too well that every project I had actually pulled countless all-nighters to finalize had been effortlessly slapped with Vanessa's name by Julian.

But I said nothing. I had tried to explain myself a thousand times before, only to be met with his ignorance and mockery. I was completely numb to it by now.

"Anyway, finish these materials and have them to me by tomorrow. I need to head over there now. She's emotionally unstable. I'm going to help her sort through the data and make sure she gets to sleep."

He genuinely didn't see anything wrong with this. He treated our home like a hotel, and our marriage like a convenient stepping stone so he could run off and play savior whenever he pleased.

The house plunged back into dead silence.

A moment later, I picked up my phone. Right on cue, the social media algorithm pushed Vanessa's latest post to the top of my feed.

It was a mirror selfie in a high-end department store fitting room. She was wearing an expensive slip dress, leaning intimately against a man's chest.

Julian.

The caption was brazenly flirty: [He always knows exactly how to chase away my dark clouds. Late-night spoils~ ❤️]

An hour later, two credit card transaction alerts suddenly dropped down from the top of my screen.

So much for working overtime. So much for suffocating under the pressure of company reports. Julian was swiping my credit card, eating French cuisine, and flirting in dressing rooms.

In the past, I probably would have been shaking uncontrollably. I would have called him, thrown these screenshots in his face, and screamed for an explanation.

But what was the point? If I hit him with the cold, hard facts, not only would he invent another excuse, but he would call me crazy, accuse me of being overly jealous, and give me the silent treatment for days. He would freeze me out until I couldn't take the agonizing isolation anymore and compromised for the sake of our marriage.

Every single time, I was the one who had to swallow the pain and clean up the mess.

But this time?