The Room Beyond the Door

For three years, I was the only one allowed inside my husband, Matthew Carter's, secret room on the top floor.

Until that day—when I walked in and found his young assistant there.

"Matthew asked me to get things ready for his dinner party," she said, all confidence and no shame.

I smiled. It turned out this was what it felt like to have my privileges as his wife trampled on.

Fine. If the rules of the game had changed, then I would show everyone who the real player was. One by one, I dismantled the Carter family's most prized projects. That was when Matthew finally panicked.

He demanded, "Why? We're husband and wife!"

"Exactly," I said, tossing the divorce papers onto his desk. "And that's why betrayal comes with a steeper price, doesn't it?"

The moment I saw my husband's assistant, Sofia, pouring wine in our secret room, I knew it was time for him to learn what it felt like to lose everything.

My name was Elena Douglas, and I had been married to Matthew Carter for three years.

That afternoon, I went to pick up Matthew from his investment firm. After that, we'd head to his parents' fancy villa in Carrington for dinner.

Matthew's office was way up in the tallest skyscraper in the city, taking up the entire top floor. Past where his assistants worked was his office.

There was a space to meet people and deal with business matters—but the real highlight was his secret room.

That room meant the world to Matthew. He said it was his only spot to catch his breath in the busy, money-scented world of finance. I was the only one allowed in.

It was our little secret—one of the perks of being his wife.

Whenever I came to get him, I would hang out in that room until he was done with work. It had my favorite books, the art we had picked out together, and a liquor cabinet that only I had the code to.

However, that day, when I opened the office door, I noticed the door to the secret room was cracked open. I stopped for a second, then pushed the door wider. There was Sofia.

She had been Matthew's personal assistant for just two months, and there she was, standing by Matthew's liquor cabinet with a bottle of fancy 1982 Lafite. Next to her, on a small table, were two glasses, and one was already filled with wine.

She saw me and smiled like everything was perfect. "Elena, you're here. Matthew told me to wait for him."

She waved the wine bottle. "He wanted me to get the wine ready for the family dinner tonight. You know how picky his dad is about his red wine."

I watched her stand there — so comfortable and relaxed like she owned the place.

"Is that the wine for the family dinner?" I asked again.

"Yep." She put the wine bottle back on the shelf, her hands moving like she had done it a million times. "Matthew told me tonight's dinner is super important, so he wanted me to pick out just the right wine. You see..."

She paused for a moment, and her eyes held an emotion I could not quite read.

"I know a lot about red wine. When I was studying in Francoria, I learned everything about wine tasting."

She went on, "Matthew mentioned his dad's new favorite is wine from Bellevigne, so I chose this special one for tonight."

Her words stung like a bee. They hurt.

Matthew knew I did not know the first thing about red wine. On our first date, I even mixed up champagne and white wine. He just laughed and said it was okay, that he would pick the wine from now on and I should just enjoy it.

Now, he had someone else picking out our dinner wine? In the place that was supposed to be just ours?

"Is Matthew still in a meeting?" I kept my voice steady.

"He should be done with the board meeting soon," Sofia said, glancing at her Patek Philippe watch. "He wanted me to get everything set up so that you both could leave as soon as he was free."

She spoke like she was one of us. It felt too close for comfort.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep the anger contained.

Getting mad at Sofia would only make me look like I was overreacting, and I bet that was what she wanted.

I just looked at her, calm and clear. "You shouldn't be here. Please leave."

Sofia's smile did not look so perfect anymore. She definitely did not see that coming. A quick flash of annoyance flickered in her eyes, but she hid it with a professional smile.

"Sure thing, Elena." She put the wine glass down and walked to the door with grace. "I'll wait for Matthew outside."

Passing by me, she stopped for a second. "Oh, and this wine? It's the perfect match for tonight's dinner. Matthew's got great taste, you know."

Her voice had a teasing edge, like she was saying, 'I know your husband better than you do.'

The door shut softly behind her.

I was left alone in the secret room, staring at two wine glasses—one empty, the other filled with wine. She had obviously been expecting someone to join her for a drink.

I moved to the big window and looked down at the streets. Three years ago, when Matthew first brought me here, we had stood right at this spot. He hugged me from behind and promised, "This place is just for us."

However, another woman was here now, acting like she owned the place.

Ten minutes later, Matthew walked in.

He saw me by myself and frowned a little. "Where's Sofia? She was supposed to get the wine."

I faced him. "I told her to step out."

"Why?" He loosened his tie and headed for the liquor cabinet. "She was just helping out."

I said, keeping my voice steady, "Matthew, do you remember what this secret room means to us?"

He stopped for a second, then poured himself some whiskey like it was no big deal. "Sure, I remember. But this is work, Elena. Don't blow it out of proportion.

Matthew continued after taking a sip, "She's good with wine. And she's my assistant. It's normal for her to take care of this stuff."

"Normal?" I stepped closer to Matthew. "Remember how we always picked out the wine for family dinners together? Even when I didn't know much about wine, you'd teach me and let me help. Now, you've got your assistant doing it and you say that's normal?"

Matthew looked a bit annoyed. "Elena, you're overthinking it."

I stared at him, the man who had once said I was 'the only one'.

"Matthew, this place is not only your private space; it's ours too," I said slowly, making sure he heard every word. "I don't want to see anyone else here."

Finally, Matthew met my gaze, irritation flashing across his face.

"Fine, if it bothers you, I'll keep it in mind from now on," he said with a shrug.

He sounded like he was trying to calm down a fussy child.

"It's not about whether you keep it in mind, Matthew. It's about boundaries. About respect," I told him.

"I get it," he said, glancing at his watch. "We should head out. My parents hate waiting."

I watched him walk away, feeling a piece of my heart break off quietly.