But reality delivered its cruelest blow yet.
All through the New Year holiday, Adela's social media feed kept updating.
Taking him to meet my mom and dad.
Gifts for Grandma and Grandpa.
The photos showed health supplements, fruit baskets, premium cigarettes, fine liquor, and cash. I did a rough count—around $300,000.
Colleagues flooded the comments, asking if she was engaged.
Adela replied with a playful emoji.
The diamond ring he bought me.
The photo showed two hands clasped tightly together.
...
Eight full days of posts. I read every single one, down to the last word.
Those eight days stretched like eight years, and the grief seeped into every corner of my being.
Derek had vanished without a trace—off playing the perfect boyfriend in someone else's world.
By the eighth day, when work resumed, Derek still hadn't come to see me.
Instead, he went to the office and handed out red envelopes to everyone.
The BIGGEST return-to-work red envelope ever!
Adela's red envelope contained $26,000.
I froze.
I called Derek immediately.
"You gave Adela a red envelope that big for the return-to-work bonus? Have you lost your mind?"
"What are the other employees supposed to think? Derek, if you want out of this marriage, just say the word. I'm not someone who can't live without you."
Derek said nothing.
After a long silence, Adela's timid voice drifted through the line.
"Viola..."
"That red envelope was my bonus for landing the Southport project. It wasn't a return-to-work gift..."
I didn't buy it.
Bonuses were paid quarterly. The Northridge contract had been signed before the holiday—if anything, it wouldn't be disbursed until March.
And since when were bonuses given in cash?
"Put Derek on the phone. I need to speak with him."
I cut her off, my voice sharp as a blade.
"Mr. Shaw is... not available right now—"
The call went dead before she finished.
A few minutes later, a message came through—there was a return-to-work reception that evening.
I got the address from someone and took a cab straight there.
By the time I arrived, the reception was already underway.
Derek stood on the small stage, rattling off last year's achievements. After handing out a few rounds of red envelopes, he stepped down to make the rounds, toasting table by table.
When he reached Adela's table, someone started egging him on.
"Mr. Shaw, Adela helped the company land such a huge deal this year—aren't you going to show some appreciation?"
"Oh, stop it!" Adela swatted the person beside her with a coy pout, then ducked her head with a smile. "Mr. Shaw already gave me a red envelope!"
"Then how about a lovers' toast? Liven things up a little!"
The drinks had been flowing, and more and more voices joined the chorus.
Derek laughed—open, easy, magnetic. He pulled Adela close, and they linked arms, glasses raised.
The crowd cheered as they swapped glasses and drained them in one go.
The atmosphere was that of newlyweds toasting at their wedding.
I sat among the crowd, invisible—like a voyeur at my own betrayal.
Tears splashed into the wine glass in front of me. I wiped them away in secret, forcing myself to accept what I was seeing.
When I lifted my gaze, my eyes locked with a man sitting in the far corner.
I shook my head with a bitter smile. The ache in my chest spread, slow and relentless.
My sinuses burned until I couldn't breathe. I stumbled out of my chair and half-ran to the restroom.
The woman staring back at me in the mirror was haggard, hollowed out, barely recognizable. In that moment, everything I'd been holding together shattered.
Ten years—reduced to the cruelest joke.
I don't know how long I stayed in there. Eventually, I pulled myself together and headed for the door.
But the voices outside stopped me cold.
"Didn't you say you'd file for divorce after she had the baby? Why are you still dragging your feet?"
"Is it because she had a boy? Is that why you don't want to leave anymore?"
