The Calculated Husband Lost Everything – “I regret marrying her. Keeping a mistress would’ve been easier.” “Then just get a divorce!” “Divorce costs a fortune. Totally not worth it.” Three years into the marriage, I caught my husband badmouthing me to his friends. Without hesitation, I handed him the divorce papers. He looked relieved when he saw I didn’t want a dime… then suddenly acted all generous. “I’ll transfer twenty million as compensation.” I smiled and said no. What he didn’t know? He only got into the elite circle because of my brother. The divorce? That was just the beginning of his nightmare. My senior year internship. Just so I could see my handsome husband a little more each day. I resolutely chose Adrian’s company. As an ordinary intern. I was so low-key that Adrian didn’t even know I was there. I was afraid of bothering him, of distracting him.
Occasionally, I’d hear other interns discussing Adrian. I’d listen carefully, never joining in. “CEO Adrian is so hot, 35 is truly a man’s prime.” “Too bad he’s married. His wife is apparently just some ordinary young girl.” “Ugh, why am I not that lucky…” When I was 18. Adrian, to express his sincerity. Declared on our first date that he was serious about marriage. He gave me the engagement ring right then and there. I responded with fervent love. We got married after only a year of dating. It was impulsive and intoxicating. Sweet and blissful. He gave me a dream romance beyond imagination. His CEO-style love was intense, overpowering, sweeping me off my feet so fast I couldn’t think straight. If I hadn’t come to his company for this internship. I might never have discovered his secrets. Vivian. Adrian’s secretary. Sexy and beautiful, a typical mature woman. She often traveled with Adrian on business trips and accompanied him to social events.
She handled all of the company’s affairs, big and small, and even knew the company better than Adrian himself. So. Before they knew Adrian was married. Everyone in the company assumed Vivian was his wife. In the cafeteria, I’d hear old employees who’d worked alongside Vivian grumble. “CEO Adrian must be blind; he has such a stunning woman like Vivian by his side and doesn’t even appreciate her.” “And Vivian even quit her executive position at a listed company to become Adrian’s secretary.” “Just you watch, once the passion fades, Adrian will divorce Chloe eventually and get together with Vivian.” There were many rumors. I never paid them any mind. After all, Adrian and I were passionate every single night. Until one social event, Vivian got drunk and confessed her feelings to Adrian in front of everyone. It was more than just a confession. It was her forcing Adrian to choose. Vivian asked Adrian if he had feelings for her. Adrian remained silent for a long time.
Vivian then asked: “If you don’t have feelings for me, then why won’t you approve my resignation letter?!” Adrian’s face was grave, and he responded with one word: “I do.” Then, he looked deeply at Vivian: “I do have feelings for you, I can’t do without you, so I can’t approve your resignation, okay?” Vivian smiled, drank the glass of wine on the table, and walked out with her bag. The air solidified for two seconds. Adrian then chased after her. Those who attended that party were all partners who had worked alongside Adrian and Vivian for years. I didn’t attend. But Penny, a chubby intern friend of mine who loved gossip, filmed the scene and sent it to me privately. Penny asked me: [Do you think something will happen between CEO Adrian and Vivian tonight?] I replied: [Probably not… right.] [They’re grown-ups, they’ve known each other for years, their feelings are so deep, they drank, confessed… you really think nothing’s going to happen?] I typed out a firm line: [Adrian is married; he should know his boundaries.
Besides, Vivian doesn’t need to be a mistress!] [You’re right, but we’ll know for sure tomorrow.] I didn’t understand what Penny meant by “we’ll know for sure tomorrow.” But the moment I exited our SnapChat conversation, I knew the answer. Adrian messaged me. He said he wouldn’t be home that night; he had an impromptu social engagement. My heart trembled. Immediately, I called him. At first, no one answered. I called several times in a row. Only then did Adrian pick up. “Babe, my phone was on silent, didn’t hear it. What’s up?” I suppressed my emotions, my fingernails already digging into my flesh. “Honey, are you really not coming home tonight?” “Yeah, a get-together, everyone’s here, can’t make it back. Please understand, babe.” I clenched my teeth, then asked: “Are there any women at your party?” He paused, then chuckled: “No, when did you start checking up on me? Want to FaceTime? I can prove my innocence.” While he was talking.
I recognized the tell-tale rustle of expensive sheets against a silk shirt. Before. When our love was wild. I often heard that sound. “Hmm…” A low groan escaped Adrian’s lips. The turmoil in my heart. Dispersed in that very instant. Three years with Adrian, we’d shared countless intimate moments; I knew exactly what that “hmm” meant. It was the involuntary release of someone reaching the peak of pleasure. That one detail. He probably didn’t even notice it himself. Perfect. I didn’t even need to stop his betrayal. The betrayal. It had already happened. I forced a bitter smile: “No need for FaceTime…” I feared it would blind me. “You have fun; I’m going to sleep.” My heart was dead. I was about to hang up. Then Adrian’s voice came from the other end. Hoarse and deep. “Babe, we closed a huge deal tonight. Starting tomorrow, everyone will be working overtime. I might be working very late, so don’t wait for me for dinner for a while.” It was overtime work. Or overtime with Vivian. To me, it no longer mattered.