Chapter 3My CEO Husband Chose His Secretary, So I Left

For the first time in weeks, Victor was the one who suggested we have dinner together.

It happened on a Thursday morning while I was finishing my coffee. He walked into the kitchen already dressed for work, placed his phone beside his plate, and looked at me across the table.

"I owe you an evening."

I raised an eyebrow. "You do."

He smiled, almost embarrassed. "Our anniversary dinner didn't exactly go as planned."

"You mean the dinner you left before it started?"

"I know." He reached across the table and touched my hand. "Let me make it up to you."

I studied his face for a moment.

There was something familiar in the way he looked at me that morning. It reminded me of the Victor I had married, the man who used to notice when I was upset before I said a word. I wanted to believe that he was finally noticing the distance between us too.

"Tonight?" I asked.

"Tonight."

He promised he would leave work early, and for once, I believed him.

I spent the afternoon thinking about what to wear.

After several changes, I chose the dark blue dress Victor had bought for me three years ago. He had seen it in a boutique window and insisted that I try it on, even though I had told him I didn't need another dress. When I came out of the fitting room, he had looked at me for so long that the saleswoman started laughing.

"You've already decided," I had teased.

"I decided before you came out."

I hadn't worn it in months.

Tonight, I wanted to wear it for him again.

Before leaving the house, I opened the drawer beside my bed and took out an old photograph. Victor and I were standing beside the nursery in it, both of us smiling at the camera while I rested one hand on my stomach. I was eight months pregnant, and Victor looked so proud that I remembered laughing when he refused to let anyone else carry the shopping bags.

On the back, he had written the date and one sentence.

Our little family.

I slipped the photograph into my purse.

I wasn't bringing it to make him feel guilty. I simply wanted to remind him of who we had been before everything became complicated. We had survived losing our child together. We had survived years of grief, and I had believed that nothing could come between us after that.

Maybe tonight we could remember that.

Victor was waiting downstairs when I came out.

His eyes moved over my dress, and for a moment, I saw the old admiration in his expression.

"You wore that."

"You remember it?"

"I bought it."

I smiled. "You did."

He walked toward me and kissed my forehead.

"You look beautiful."

Something inside me softened.

Maybe I had been waiting for that simple moment without realizing it.

The restaurant was quiet and private, exactly as Victor had promised. He had reserved a corner table away from the main dining area, and a small arrangement of white roses sat between our plates.

I looked at them and smiled.

"You planned this?"

Victor pulled out my chair.

"I said I'd make it up to you."

For the first half hour, everything felt almost normal.

We talked about work, the house, and a new restaurant that had recently opened near our office. Victor even laughed when I reminded him about the time he accidentally ordered an absurdly expensive bottle of wine because he misunderstood the menu.

I found myself laughing too.

I hadn't realized how much I missed this version of us.

When our food arrived, I reached into my purse and placed the photograph on the table between us.

Victor picked it up.

His smile disappeared.

For several seconds, he simply stared at the picture.

"I remember that day," he said quietly.

"So do I."

His thumb moved across the edge of the photograph.

"You were angry because I kept touching your stomach."

"You wouldn't stop."

"I couldn't believe he was actually in there."

I smiled.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then Victor looked at me.

"I miss that."

My heart tightened.

"So do I."

He reached across the table and took my hand.

"I'm sorry I've been distant."

I looked down at our joined hands.

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"Then why have you been?"

Victor opened his mouth to answer.

His phone rang.

We both looked at it.

Mara.

The warmth disappeared from his face almost immediately.

He answered.

"What happened?"

I watched him listen.

His shoulders stiffened.

"Where are you?"

Another pause.

"Mara, calm down."

His voice had changed completely.

I knew that tone. It was the same voice he had used with me years ago whenever I woke from a nightmare or couldn't stop crying after our son's death.

Victor stood.

"Are you alone?"

I stared at him.

He turned away from me.

"Stay there. I'm coming."

He ended the call and reached for his jacket.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"You're leaving?"

"She needs help."

I glanced at the untouched food between us.

"Victor, we're having dinner."

"I know."

"She can call someone else."

His expression hardened.

"She's having a breakdown, Eleanor."

"So am I."

The words came out before I could stop them.

Victor looked at me.

For a moment, I thought he might sit back down.

Instead, he sighed.

"Please don't do this tonight."

I felt something inside me crack.

"Do what?"

"Make this into something it isn't."

I stared at him.

"You promised me tonight."

"I'll make it up to you."

"You said that before."

He didn't answer.

He simply leaned down, kissed my forehead, and walked away.

I watched him leave the restaurant without looking back.

The waiter approached several minutes later, asking if I wanted the rest of the meal packed.

I looked at the empty chair across from me.

"No."

He hesitated.

"Would you like dessert?"

I almost laughed.

"No, thank you."

I paid the bill myself.

By the time I arrived home, it was nearly midnight.

Victor still wasn't there.

I changed out of the blue dress and sat on the edge of our bed, staring at my phone. I expected him to call. I expected an explanation, an apology, anything that would make the evening easier to understand.

Nothing came.

An hour passed.

Then another.

Finally, I heard the front door downstairs.

I didn't move.

Victor came upstairs several minutes later, but he didn't enter the bedroom. I heard him walking around the house, then the sound of his office door closing.

I picked up my phone.

Still nothing.

Then, almost by accident, I opened the company social media page.

A new photograph had been posted from a private business dinner.

The caption read:

A productive evening with our CEO and special guests.

My eyes went straight to Victor.

He was sitting at a table in a private dining room.

And beside him was Mara.

She was smiling.

Victor was looking at her with the same worried tenderness I had seen on his face when she called him earlier.

I stared at the photograph until my vision blurred.

He hadn't simply gone to check on her.

He had taken her to dinner.

While I had sat alone at the table he promised was ours, Victor had spent the rest of the evening with another woman.

I closed the page and placed my phone on the nightstand.

Then I opened my purse and took out the old photograph.

Victor and I were smiling in front of the nursery, young and hopeful, believing that the future belonged to us.

I stared at it for a long time before placing it on the bedside table.

Then I turned the photograph face down.

For the first time, I didn't want to look at the life I had once believed was mine.