2: 2
From sixteen to twenty-four.
Stanley and I loved each other for eight full years, all the way through our youth.
The day before our engagement, on my way back from a wedding-dress fitting, someone drugged me on the road and knocked me out.
When I came to, the first thing I saw was my father's face, twisted and vicious.
He stared at me, his voice soaked in spite.
"You and that little punk teamed up and put me away for five years. This is what you get."
"You little brat. Let's see whether that respectable fiancé of yours still insists on marrying you once you've been ruined."
A few strange thugs closed in and tore at the skirt of my dress.
The sound of the fabric ripping was shrill and hopeless.
Tape sealed my mouth tight, and I choked on the terror.
I forced two words out of my throat with everything I had.
"Stanley…"
By some miracle, a patrol car came screaming up.
He'd been searching for me like a man gone mad, and he got there before the worst could happen.
He stripped off his neat suit jacket and wrapped it carefully, tightly around me.
His voice cracked, but it was steady.
"It's over, Patsy. It's over. I'm here…"
His family threatened to disown him and froze all his cards, trying to force him to let go, to give up the tainted, ruined me.
But Stanley held out against all of it and married me without hesitation, even though I needed long-term medication just to keep my emotions stable.
Day after day, he soothed my raw nerves and my fear with patience.
He knew better than anyone that this was a wound I would never heal from in my lifetime, the deepest thing I kept hidden, the one place no one was allowed to touch.
And now, for Shirley Barnes, he was tearing that scar open without a second thought.
"All these years I've walked on eggshells around your moods, and I'm exhausted…"
My throat ached, sour and tight, and it was a long time before I managed a bitter, desolate smile.
"So this is what you've really been thinking all these years."
Stanley's pupils shrank, and a flicker of panic crossed his face.
He softened his voice, worn thin and half-hearted.
"I've been under too much pressure lately. Shirley's been through hell because of what people are saying, and I've been busy comforting her. I'm drained, body and soul."
"Patsy, be reasonable. Stop clinging to this."
I stared at the man in front of me, so familiar and so strange.
How much more reasonable was I supposed to be?
Reasonable enough to accept that he'd changed his heart, reasonable enough to tolerate his favoritism?
Or reasonable enough to watch him shield someone else while I didn't even have the right to break down and demand answers?
In his eyes, all my hurt and hysteria made me look like a madwoman throwing a fit.
The rush of running water filled the room, walling off the silence.
I hesitated a long time, then finally sent a message to Stanley's assistant.
"Do you know what Shirley Barnes is to Mr. James?"
Not long after, the reply popped up.
"Ma'am, everyone in the company has known for ages. Miss Barnes joined half a year ago. She's Mr. James's personal secretary."
So everyone had known.
Everyone but me, holding tight to a picture that had shattered long ago, moved by my own devotion.
That night I lay with my back to the man beside me.
For the first time, we didn't fall asleep in each other's arms the way we always had.
The next morning, Stanley finished getting ready and spoke gently.
"I'll drive you to the hospital for your shift."
I answered flatly, my voice calm and even.
"I took the day off. I'll come with you to the office."
The car braked hard, and the jolt nearly threw me into the windshield.
Stanley didn't notice. His voice carried obvious resistance.
"Another time. Today's not a good day at the office."
"Not a good day? You mean you're afraid I'll run into your personal secretary, Shirley Barnes, and make a scene in front of everyone and embarrass you?"
His face darkened at once.
"Who told you?"
"You did it, so I'd find out sooner or later. Does it matter who told me?"
He was silent for a long moment, then spoke with a kind of smug, self-righteous candor.
"The girl had just lost her job, and I happened to need a secretary, so I brought her on."
The rest of the drive was dead silent, the air in the car pressing down until it was hard to breathe.
We reached the building, and the moment I walked into the office tower behind Stanley,
every eye in the place swung to me at once.
None of those looks held the old envy and respect.
There was only naked pity, amusement, even mockery.
"She actually had the nerve to show up here? If it were me, I'd have hidden at home and never dared come out."
"Next to Miss Barnes, his wife looks so grim. Like she's never been loved a day in her life. Like some kind of mental case."
"Everyone online is calling Secretary Barnes a homewrecker. You don't think this shrink of a wife leaked it out of spite, do you? So much for medical ethics…"
My steps only faltered when I heard that last line.
I followed Stanley into the office, and the question in my mind finally had its answer.
Because the instant Shirley Barnes saw him, she threw herself at him, eyes brimming red.
She clung to his waist and sobbed until her whole body shook.
"Stanley, everyone online is attacking me. They're all saying I'm a homewrecker. I really can't take it anymore. I don't want to live."
"All my personal information has been leaked, but the only counselor I've seen this whole time is Dr. Mason…"
