My live-in husband had low sperm motility. The day our ninety-ninth round of IVF failed, I finally broke.
"Forget it. It hurts too much. I can't do this anymore."
Before he could respond, the nanny attending to me let out a piercing shriek. "Mr. Sanchez is the sole heir to Henson Sterling Group! How can he not have a son?"
"The Sanchez family was unlucky enough to marry a barren hen like you. Now you can't even endure a little pain? How shameless can you be?"
She stood there, righteous as a saint, as if I were some unforgivable sinner.
But Brendan Sanchez was the one with the fertility problem.
I barely managed a bitter twitch of my lips before Brendan quietly stepped in front of the nanny, shielding her behind him.
"Debbie, Cindy just cares too much about me. She speaks without thinking. Don't hold it against her."
Then his large, well-defined hand patted my shoulder in consolation, a flash of tenderness crossing his eyes. "Does it hurt that bad? Let me go out and get you something to help you recover."
"Mr. Sanchez!" Cindy Pruitt stomped her foot, her face twisted with exaggerated heartache. "You're too good for her! Does she even know how badly you want a child? She's the one who can't get pregnant, and now she can't even handle a little suffering!"
Cindy scoffed. "If I were her, I'd have died of shame. Married all these years and she still hasn't given you a single child. She's useless!"
The dark amusement in my eyes vanished in an instant. "Cindy Pruitt, is it? I'm officially informing you that you're fired."
"You think you have that power?" Cindy didn't flinch. She planted her hands on her hips and looked down at me. "Mr. Sanchez hired me. Fire me? You don't have the authority."
"Enough." Before I could speak, Brendan cut in with a low, sharp reprimand. "Cindy, go pick up some supplements for Debbie. You're not needed here right now."
The next second, Cindy shot me one last provocative glance and sauntered out the door without a care in the world.
The room fell deathly quiet.
"Brendan Sanchez, explain something to me. Since when did you become the heir to Henson Sterling Group?"
...
Brendan's flawless face was etched with helplessness.
"Debbie, Cindy just misunderstood on her own..."
I didn't soften. I glanced at the message my assistant had just sent to my phone. "Cindy Pruitt. Middle school education. No formal domestic service training of any kind."
I flung the phone down in front of him. "Brendan Sanchez, this is who you're cheating on me with?"
His expression changed instantly, jaw clenched, words grinding through his teeth. "Debbie Henson, after everything, you're still questioning my loyalty?"
"I don't love you? Then why would I have married into your family?"
"Because of this arrangement, I barely speak to my parents anymore. Every relative I have laughs at me behind my back."
Yes. On that count, Brendan truly had been wronged. That was exactly why, when he said he wanted a child, I put myself through ninety-nine rounds of IVF.
I tapped the table and looked at him squarely. Despite everything, something in my chest still gave way.
"Fire Cindy Pruitt, and I'll pretend none of this ever happened."
Brendan had just turned thirty. His handsome face was smooth, unmarked by a single line. Yet for Cindy Pruitt alone, his brows knotted into a deep, tortured furrow.
"Debbie, can you please not put me in this position?"
"Cindy and I really have nothing going on. She's a village girl who barely finished school. You're a graduate from a top university, a CEO who commands boardrooms. I'd have to be out of my mind to have anything with her."
"Besides, it's not like you actually suffered. She said a few words to you. Is that really worth making a young girl lose her job?"
A beat of silence. Then his phone rang. He glanced at me, looking torn. "Debbie, I can't stay with you. Something urgent came up at the office. I need to go."
"Can you manage on your own? I can stay if you need me to."
I waved him off. "Work comes first. Go handle it. Call me if you can't sort it out."
I sat alone for a few minutes, then ignored the doctor's orders to rest and walked out of the clinic.
Right there, in the coffee shop by the entrance, Brendan and Cindy sat side by side.
Cindy was gently blowing on his coffee to cool it. "Mr. Sanchez, you've had it so hard. You gave that old woman the title of Mrs. Sanchez, and she can't even bother to show her husband a little kindness."
Brendan didn't pull away. He sighed. "If only everyone were as gentle as you. Debbie Henson... never mind. Forget I said anything."
Watching the two of them nestled together like that, the pain I'd been fighting so hard to ignore surged back, sharp and relentless, like a thousand needles driving into my skin all at once.
I pulled out my phone. The color had drained from my face as I dialed a number. "Fire Cindy Pruitt. I want her blacklisted across the entire industry." My voice didn't waver. "And start consolidating my assets. I want a divorce."
