My wife biased with her lover and stole my work achievements, so I showed up at the celebration party with two gifts: a divorce agreement and a lawyer's letter. Seven years. Seven years I spent developing this software from scratch, starting back in college. And just as I'm about to launch it, I get an anonymous email. That's when I learn my program has already hit the market—with Liam's name listed as the lead developer. Liam. My wife's college sweetheart. Her golden boy. I confront Claire, my wife, the CEO of the tech company we built together. I show her the launch certificate, demand an explanation. She barely glances up from her phone. "Liam needs this for his grad school application overseas. It'll look good on his portfolio." "Besides, it's all company IP anyway. Does it really matter whose name is on it?" I lose it. I demand she change the credit back to my name immediately. Her response? She suspends me on the spot. Tells me to cover the night shift at the security desk. That night, Liam posts on Instagram. The photo shows a woman asleep, her back to the camera. I recognize the mole on her shoulder blade instantly. Claire. The caption reads, "Still tosses and turns in her sleep. Just like the old days." I like the post. I comment: "Congrats, you two. Hope you're locked in forever. Maybe start working on that baby." Later, Claire throws Liam a launch party for "his" software. I show up with two gifts: divorce papers and a lawyer's letter. Then I walk out and slide into the Bentley waiting for me—sent by the rival company that's been courting me for months. When they launch my real software internationally, Claire loses her goddamn mind. --- I turn off my phone after posting that comment, staring at our wedding photo on the wall. The bitterness is almost funny. I lie down on the couch and pass out from exhaustion. 2 AM. Claire's call jolts me awake. "Ethan, are you out of your fucking mind? I fell asleep at Liam's place discussing work specs!" "Delete that comment right now. What will people think?" She's bold enough to sleep over at another man's house, but she's worried about optics? My phone buzzes. It's a check-in reminder for tomorrow morning's flight to Hawaii. Oh, right. We were supposed to go on that trip. The one we'd planned to celebrate the software launch—the honeymoon we never had. Well, I already paid for it. And I haven't taken a vacation in years. Might as well go alone. Clear my head. On the drive to the airport, my phone won't stop vibrating. At a red light, I glance at it. The company Slack is exploding. Liam posted a three-minute video—red-rimmed eyes, voice breaking: "Ethan, I'm so sorry for the misunderstanding... Claire only fell asleep at my place because we were finalizing launch details late into the night... Nothing happened, I swear..." He's wiping away tears like a kicked puppy. Then Claire chimes in on the thread: "@Ethan, happy now? You had to make a scene in front of the whole company. Liam apologized. What more do you want?" The sycophants immediately fall in line. "Ethan really crossed a line this time. Liam's such a good guy." "Seriously. Claire and Liam work their asses off for this company, and some people just nitpick everything." "People with dirty minds see dirt everywhere." I laugh—cold and sharp—and leave the group chat. Funny how these same people used to kiss my ass when I was indispensable. Now that Liam's the golden boy, they're all on their knees for him. I barely exit the Slack channel when my phone rings again. It's Sarah from the tech team. She's the only junior engineer I personally trained. The only one who hasn't thrown me under the bus. I hesitate, then answer. "Ethan..." Her voice is strained. "Claire wants me to tell you... you need to come back to the office immediately. Liam's keynote speech for the launch event needs your edits." My hands tighten on the steering wheel. "She wants me to write Liam's speech?"
I can't believe they have the audacity. They steal my work, and now they want me to write the speech celebrating it. "Yeah..." Sarah stammers. "Claire said you're the only one who really understands the system's architecture... and if you don't come back, she's marking you as absent without leave. She'll freeze your building access and your bank card." "Why can't they write it themselves?" I ask, my voice icy. Sarah hesitates. "Claire... Claire took Liam on a business trip to meet potential partners. They'll be gone for three days." I slam on the brakes. The car stops smoothly at the red light. "So the company doesn't have a single person capable of writing a technical keynote, and I'm the only option?" Sarah sighs. "Ethan, do what you think is right. I'm putting in my resignation the second I hang up. Claire said if I don't get you back, she's firing me. But honestly? I'm done. The people in this company are disgusting. They've been targeting me ever since I didn't join the group chat pile-on against you... Thanks for everything you taught me. See you around." Sarah hangs up. My hands are shaking on the wheel. Impressive. Really impressive. Claire. Liam. What a power couple. Clear out everyone loyal to me, and suddenly there's no dissent left in the company. I land in Hawaii and check into a boutique resort hotel. I booked it months ago, back when I thought Claire and I would finally take that trip we never had time for during the software grind. "Excuse me, sir," the front desk clerk says politely, scanning my ID. "When will your wife be arriving? I'll make a note for check-in." I freeze. My throat tightens. "It's just me." The clerk glances up, confused. "You booked the couple's suite—" She catches the look on my face and stops mid-sentence. "Right. Of course, sir. Let me get you checked in right away." I swipe my keycard and step inside. Rose petals scattered across the king-size bed. Two towel swans twisted together in an embrace at the center. The weather outside is perfect. But for some reason, I have zero desire to go out. Next door, I hear the faint click of a lock. Then the sharp staccato of heels on tile. I frown. The walls here are thinner than I thought. "This trip was worth it, wasn't it, Claire?" a male voice says. "We avoid prying eyes at the office, and we get to... relax properly." I freeze. That voice. I'd recognize it anywhere. So their "business trip" was just a vacation to Hawaii. To screw around.
Liam murmurs something I can't quite make out. "Oh, stop," Claire's voice drifts through, lazy and indulgent. Not stern. More like... permissive. "Am I wrong?" Liam's tone sharpens, smug and triumphant. "Seven years of his life's work, and it's nothing but a stepping stone for me now. You've been so good to me, Claire. Come here—give me a kiss." Rustling fabric. Then Claire's breathy moan. And then sounds I really, really don't want to hear. Something metallic and sour surges up my throat. I grab the phone and call the front desk. They pick up instantly. "Front desk, how can I assist you?" The noise next door continues. I take a deep breath. "Hi, this is the guest in Room 1808. The noise from Room 1807 is excessive. It's disturbing my rest. Please send someone to handle it." The clerk apologizes profusely and promises to send staff immediately. The wait feels endless. The obscene sounds keep bleeding through the wall, intermittent but persistent. Finally, I hear footsteps in the hallway. A polite knock. "Excuse me, guests in 1807. We've received a noise complaint. Your room is disturbing other guests. Could you please keep it down?" The noise stops abruptly. A few seconds of dead silence. Then the door is yanked open. "A complaint? Who complained? What kind of petty bullshit is this? We're a couple in our own room—who are we bothering?" "Ma'am, please understand. This is a reasonable request from another guest, and it's hotel policy to ensure all guests can rest comfortably—" The staff member is doing their best to stay professional, but clearly struggling. Then someone knocks on my door. I take a deep breath and yank it open. Standing there—hair tousled, wearing a silk robe—is Claire. Her expression of righteous fury freezes the instant she sees me. "Ethan... what are you doing here?"
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