I had spent half a year winning a high-stakes reversal case, which sent the stock options of Parker & Associates Law Firm soaring.
My wife, Sophia Miller, was overjoyed. She ordered lace lingerie online, saying she wanted to give me a surprise.
I thought she had finally overcome her so-called psychological barriers and given up on her “platonic love.”
But then I turned around and saw her figure sprawled across the bed—in a vlog posted by our intern, Jason Reed.
Scrolling through the comment section filled with admiration and blessings from strangers, I quietly tapped “like.”
Soon, my wife called.
“Ethan, don’t misunderstand. I was only pretending to be his girlfriend to boost his followers, and he just happened to help me try on the clothes. You just landed a big case—you can’t afford distractions. Once things settle down, I’ll make it up to you, I promise!”
I sneered and signed my name on the job offer from another firm.
“No need. Let’s get a divorce.”
Her voice instantly sharpened.
“I said he was only helping me, why are you so petty? What, would you rather I actually do something with him just so you’d feel better?”
“You’re threatening divorce over something so trivial? Childish.”
“This time I’ll let it slide, but if it happens again—even if you beg me on your knees—I won’t forgive you.”
Before I could reply, she hung up.
I looked at the freshly printed divorce papers, my chest tight with anger.
What Sophia didn’t know was that I truly intended to leave her.
We had been married for five years, yet always kept it a secret, never once living as husband and wife.
She claimed to have psychological issues—insisting on maintaining a “single” public persona—while feeding me the idea of a platonic marriage.
And I had pitied her, believing her every word, accommodating her in everything.
My phone buzzed with a message from Daniel Scott, my assistant. He had once been my student at Columbia University, and was one of the few who knew about my relationship with Sophia.
It was a screenshot of the law firm’s internal group chat.
Many colleagues had seen Jason’s vlog, teasing the two of them, asking when they could expect wedding invitations.
Jason replied:
“That’s up to Sophia. She’s right here beside me and says don’t worry, you’ll all be included.”
“But since you’re being so sweet, I’ll have her give you all the night off. Let’s celebrate together at dinner.”
Amid the cheering, only Daniel stood up for me.
“Some people really have no shame—cheating is bad enough, but flaunting it so openly? That’s truly shameless.”
His sarcasm clearly struck a nerve with Jason, who began posting manipulative comments to play the victim.
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Opening the chat, I realized I had already been quietly kicked out of the group.
A second later, Daniel called me.
“Ethan, this Jason Reed is way out of line! Why don’t you just make your marriage public and put him in his place?”
Had this been earlier, I might have agreed.
But now, I had already made up my mind to cut ties with Sophia. I had no intention of getting myself tangled in more drama.
“He’s just a clown, not worth the effort. But Daniel, defending me like that will only make Sophia give you a hard time again.”
I said again because Sophia had opposed his hiring from the start.
When the firm was short-staffed, Daniel had just applied, and I wanted to bring him in. But Sophia insisted otherwise.
