Lindsay always shifts the narrative, raising the stakes with each argument. But I wasn’t buying it this time.
Instead of wasting more time in a pointless argument, I just wanted to get some rest.
"Wait!" Lindsay said with a sigh. "I can’t do anything with you."
She pulled a box from her bag. "This is a shirt clip for you. Don’t be angry. I didn’t come back to fight with you. Can you calm down?"
Looking at the shirt clip, I almost laughed.
High-end suits always come with a shirt clip, and I’d just seen Nigel wearing one. He had proudly said that the gift was just a small gesture, not matching the value of the expensive suit.
Now, Lindsay was using the same gift to try to calm me down. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
I took the box and tossed it into the trash in front of her. "Anything else? I’m going to bed."
Lindsay’s expression darkened. "Don’t be so ungrateful! I’m trying to make peace, and you throw it back in my face! What else do you want from me?"
I slammed the divorce agreement on the table. "Signing this would be the best thing you could do."
Lindsay stared at me, stunned, her eyes wide in disbelief. "What do you mean?"
I looked at her directly. "Do I really need to explain? I want a divorce."
Lindsay's eyes burned with fury. "You want to cause trouble, don’t you? You’re doing all of this just to make me fire Nigel, but I won’t do it!"
"Not only will I not fire him, I’ll promote him and give him a raise. I want him to climb higher than you!" she snapped.
I couldn’t help but applaud her imagination. "You really know how to stretch the truth," I replied.
A few months ago, when Nigel first joined the company, I saw him for what he was—a clueless rookie. I suggested to Lindsay that we should fire him before he caused any more trouble.
But Lindsay insisted that Nigel was just a young man starting out, needing more chances to prove himself. She even said that seeing him reminded her of me when I was beginning my career, struggling just like he was.
I knew Nigel was her first love, but I didn’t want to spoil her fun, so I kept quiet.
Yet Nigel kept making mistakes, and every time I pointed them out, Lindsay accused me of being jealous, asking me not to suppress a newcomer.
Hearing my sarcasm, Lindsay stormed out, slamming the door behind her. "Fine, do whatever you want! I won’t fall for it!"
Just as she left, Nigel updated his social media status.
It was a photo of a neck adorned with strawberries, accompanied by the caption: [The mark given by my sister.] Below, colleagues were sending blessings, 99 to be exact.
I didn’t care. I turned around and went back to my room, intending to sleep peacefully.
I also responded to the old friend who had been sending me subtle signals.
The next morning, I submitted my resignation to HR once again. I also sent the divorce agreement to Lindsay’s email.
The email remained marked as unread, while HR hesitated, typing out a message, asking me to come into the office to discuss it.
As soon as I stepped through the door, I overheard a few hushed conversations:
"I heard the president is secretly married. Who’s the guy?"
"Who else could it be? Nigel, the new guy who joined a few months ago. Didn’t you see the product launch yesterday? President Logan basically confirmed it."
"I was wondering how he got promoted so fast. He’s already above Director Duncan. Do you think Director Duncan is okay with that?"
"I saw Director Duncan taking secret photos of the president last time. He definitely has a thing for her. Too bad she’s already taken..."
I had to admit, Lindsay was good at keeping secrets.
Despite working with us for years, none of the colleagues realized that the husband they were gossiping about—President Logan’s husband—was actually me.
I walked past them, expressionless, and they immediately fell silent, too scared to continue speaking.
