Chapter 1My Useless Husband Fired Me Today

The night my wife left for her business trip, her assistant sent me a photo.

In it, the two of them lay tangled in a mess of white hotel sheets, fast asleep. He had even added a smug, provocative caption: Hey bro, your wife’s got great technique. She’s mine now.

I didn’t reply.

Instead, I opened our company’s Slack workspace. There were two hundred and thirty-six people online.

I uploaded the photo to the general announcement channel and typed:

“Congratulations to our executive assistant, Tim, on his outstanding performance. Effective immediately, he will be taking on the additional role of the CEO's husband. Compensation negotiable.”

I turned off my phone and went to sleep.

When I powered it back on the next morning, I had 136 missed calls.

Her voice notes were a mix of desperate tears and furious curses.

But the only thing I wanted to say to her was: you chose him, Meredith. Now you carry the weight of that choice.

* * *

My phone buzzed against the nightstand.

I swiped it open.

It was a photo.

Meredith, my wife, lay next to another man. They were naked, their arms draped over each other on the crisp white linen of a hotel bed. Her cheeks were flushed with sleep, a faint, contented smile gracing her lips. The man had leaned in, pressing his lips to her forehead while holding up his phone to snap the picture. Only half of his face was visible, but his eyes gleamed with triumphant malice.

I recognized him immediately. Tim, Meredith’s assistant.

Beneath the image, a text block popped up:

“Hey bro, your wife’s got great technique. She’s mine now.”

I stared at those words for a long time.

My thumb hovered over the screen. I felt no urge to type a response. I felt no sudden surge of rage. My heart felt as if it were being squeezed by a cold, calloused hand, and then, just as suddenly, the hand let go, leaving behind nothing but a hollow, ringing numbness.

I backed out of the private chat and opened a different app.

“Meridan Digital (236)”

I had renamed the all-staff Slack channel on the day Meredith and I got married. Meridan was a portmanteau of our names—Meredith and Daniel.

Two hundred and thirty-six people. Every single employee from the executive suite down to the developers was in that workspace, excluding only the evening custodial staff.

I selected the photo.

I clicked send.

Then, in the text field, I typed out each word with deliberate, steady strokes:

“Congratulations to our executive assistant, Tim, on his outstanding performance. Effective immediately, he will be taking on the additional role of the CEO's husband. Compensation negotiable. Please govern yourselves accordingly.”

I hit enter.

The gray delivery checkmark turned green, confirming the message had gone through.

I scrolled through the member directory until I found Meredith’s avatar. It was a photo of us on a beach in Maui, her laughter captured mid-breath, radiating warmth. I tapped her profile, clicked the settings icon, and selected Remove from Workspace.

Then I found Tim’s profile.

Remove from Workspace.

With that, the world went quiet. I toggled my phone to airplane mode and tossed it onto the nightstand.

The bedroom was swallowed by darkness, the heavy blackout curtains blocking out the city lights. This was our master bedroom. We had been married for three years, but Meredith had slept in this bed for cumulative total of less than three months.

She always told me she was too busy. The company was in a critical scaling phase; she had to fly out for client dinners, attend late-night networking events, and close venture rounds.

She used to say, "Daniel, you’re the only one who truly understands me."

And I did. I had handed her the very company I built from the ground up, along with the title of CEO. I told her, "You go chase your dreams. I’ll keep the home fires burning."

Now, her dream was fully realized. But our home was gone.

Perhaps it was for the best.

I lay back down and closed my eyes. For the first time in three years, I fell asleep within minutes.