I stood in the doorway, shaking. “You could’ve just told me you were unhappy.”
“I am telling you,” he snapped. “I’m choosing my happiness.”
“And what about ours?”
His back was turned, shoulders stiff.
“I can’t do this with you, Paige,” he said. “You make everything messy.”
“I’m choosing my happiness.”
I felt something snap inside me, like a rubber band that had been stretched too long.
“No, you made it messy when you decided to see someone else.”
He said nothing. He just dragged the suitcase past me and out the door.
I didn’t follow him, but I did walk to the window, watching his taillights disappear without slowing once.
Then I went downstairs and locked the door, letting the weight of everything he didn’t say hit me all at once.
**
I didn’t follow him.
“Okay,” I whispered into my fist. “Okay. Breathe.”
I stayed there, listening to the silence.
I cried until it felt like bruising from the inside out, but not just for me. It was for the questions that would come in the morning. For the kids asking questions I couldn’t lie about, and couldn’t fully explain without breaking something in them.
**
At six sharp, my youngest climbed into bed with me, dragging her blanket like a cape. She curled against me.
“Mommy,” Rose mumbled. “Is Daddy making pancakes?”
My heart cracked wide open.
“Is Daddy making pancakes?”
“Not today, baby,” I said softly, and kissed her curls.
I got up before I could fall apart again. I worked through breakfast, lunchboxes, missing socks, and a missing shoe that somehow made two kids grumpy.
I was pouring milk a few hours later when my phone rang.
Mark, Cole’s coworker, the one my kids trusted enough to climb on like a jungle gym.
I pressed the phone to my ear. “Mark, I can’t —”
“Paige,” he cut in. His voice was sharp and controlled, but underneath, there was panic. “You need to come. Now.”
“Mark, I can’t—”
“Where?” I stopped pouring. “What’s going on?”
“I’m at the office,” he said. “Cole’s in a glass conference room. HR is here. Darren’s here too.”
“What did Cole do?”
Mark hesitated for a moment. “The company card. It got flagged.”
I gripped the edge of the counter. “Flagged for what? I didn’t even know he had access to it.”
“Hotel stays. Gifts. All tied to the trainer from the on-site gym. Alyssa. She’s a vendor under our wellness contract, and compliance has been auditing Cole’s expenses for weeks. They didn’t know it was an affair until last night. They just knew he was bleeding money.”
“What’s going on?”
My stomach turned.
“The company phone plan flagged him,” Mark continued. “Then the charges matched the same dates. They don’t need romance rumors. They have receipts.”
I closed my eyes. “And why are you telling me this?”
Mark exhaled. “Because Cole thinks he can spin it. He called you ’emotional.’ He said that he could always come back home because he knows how to ‘handle you.'”
I looked at the breakfast table, at the kids milling around, deciding what to do with their day.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I have six children, Mark. Leah is 12. I can’t hide this from her.”
“I know,” he agreed. “That’s why you need to come.”
I pressed mute. My youngest tugged at the hem of my shirt.
“Mommy?”
I crouched down and met her eyes. “Go sit with your brother, baby. I’ll be right there, okay?”
She nodded and padded off, dragging her stuffed bunny behind her.
I unmuted the call. “Fine. I’m coming.”
“I can’t hide this from her.”
I hung up and dialed Tessa from next door. She picked up after one ring.
“I need a favor,” I said.
“I’m already lacing up my sneakers, Paige,” she replied. “Just go.”
I didn’t even stop to change my clothes. I just grabbed my keys and purse, kissed the kids on their heads, and ran out.
The drive was a blur. My hands gripped the wheel too tight. My jaw ached from clenching. Rage sat beside me in the passenger seat.
**
“I need a favor.”
When I pushed through the office lobby doors, everything felt too polished, like a place where messes weren’t supposed to happen.
Mark was waiting near the front desk.
“They pulled reimbursement records,” he said as I approached. “Hotel bookings. Wellness claims. Several fancy gifts.”
I swallowed. “All tied to Alyssa?”
“They matched it all to her vendor profile,” Mark said grimly.
“Texts?”
“Oh yes,” he confirmed. “Expense reports, vendor logs, even his company phone records. HR’s got everything.”
“All tied to Alyssa?”
He jerked his chin toward the glass-walled conference room.
Through it, I saw Cole — standing, pacing, talking with his hands like he was giving a pitch. HR sat across from him, impassive. Darren, the CEO, looked exhausted. At the end of the table, a VP I’d only seen at the holiday party sat watching like a judge.
Then the door swung open.
Alyssa marched in, ponytail swinging, phone in hand, voice already raised. She didn’t bother to knock.
“What is she doing?” I whispered.
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