His Secretary Humiliated Me,So I Signed the Divorce Papers

Mick Graves had invited a crowd of colleagues over for a dinner party at our place. His secretary suggested I drink with the men at the table.

"It's a celebration! I heard you used to pour drinks for a living anyway, so having a few with the guys shouldn't be a problem, right?" Rebecca Simmons said, her voice light and sweet.

I looked at my husband. He wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Rebecca's not wrong," Mick said. "You poured drinks at bars back in the day. What's the difference?"

"Don't kill the mood. You had no problem drinking with strangers back then. Why can't you have a few with my colleagues now?"

Every pair of eyes at the table landed on me, amused, appraising. I sat perfectly still.

When I didn't move, Mick decided I'd embarrassed him. His voice cracked through the room like a whip.

"What? Asking you to have a drink is beneath you now? If you hadn't married me, you think you'd be living like this?"

"Pick up the glass. Don't make me angry."

I didn't look at him again. I stood, walked into the bedroom, and sent my sister a message.

Denise, I'll go abroad with you.

I'm divorcing Mick.

——

After I hit send, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.

The bedroom door swung open. Mick walked in.

He must have noticed the look on my face, because he lowered his voice a fraction.

"They're all my business partners. How could you disrespect me like that in front of them?"

"You know how hard we worked to land this deal. I invited them here to celebrate. That's all."

"It was just a joke. Did you really have to throw a fit in front of everyone?"

I looked at the man standing before me and let out a cold laugh.

"A joke? Humiliation and mockery are just jokes to you?"

"What did you all just call me? A bar girl? You know exactly what I was doing back then. They might not know the truth, but you? You have no excuse."

"Mick, of all the people in this world, you are the last person who gets to throw that in my face."

Seven years ago, Mick and I had just graduated from college.

He didn't want to work for someone else. He wanted to build something of his own, and I threw everything I had behind that decision.

He and a handful of like-minded friends pooled their ambitions, set up a small studio, and buried themselves in product development.

To keep his dream alive, I worked a day job, promoted drinks at a bar every night, then came home and stayed up designing freelance projects for extra cash.

On weekends, I drove rideshare.

If it paid, I did it. No questions asked.

And he delivered. The tiny studio became a real company. The team grew from a handful of people to over a hundred.

Once the business was on solid ground, he told me he couldn't stand watching me run myself into the ground anymore. After we got married, he insisted I stop working.

So I listened. I stayed home, took care of the house, took care of him, and became the dutiful wife behind the successful man.

And what did it get me? Him, with his arm around another woman, laughing along while his so-called colleagues mocked me as some kind of bargirl.

A shout from the living room dragged me back to the present.

"Hey, Mr. Graves! You okay in there?"

"Big-shot CEO can't even keep his own wife in line?"

"Maybe your wife doesn't want us here. She should've just said so. We would've stayed home!"

Laughter erupted on the other side of the door. Not a shred of regard for me in any of it.

Mick's jaw tightened. Terrified of losing face, he raised his voice and roared at me.

"Madeline McDaniel! You think I'm being too easy on you?"

"Every single person out there is my brother. You disrespect them, you disrespect me!"

"Seems like these past few years have been a little too comfortable for you. Now you think you can pull this attitude with me."

I opened my mouth to fire back, but Rebecca Simmons appeared in the doorway, her expression arranged into something gracious and concerned.

"Oh, Mr. Graves, don't be so hard on her. We're partly to blame too."

She turned to me, her voice dripping with manufactured warmth. "But you have to admit, everyone's in a good mood tonight. You really shouldn't have ruined it for them."