I was scrolling through social media when a video titled “The Cutest Couple at Comic-Con” popped up. The comments explained that the girl cosplaying the female lead was a recent graduate, an intern. The man with her was her boss, whom she’d dragged along to fill in. “How come other people’s bosses are so handsome and doting? I’m so jealous!” “Right? My boss is a bald, penny-pinching fossil who only knows how to exploit us!” I shook my head and chuckled, my thoughts drifting to my own husband. Arthur, a software engineer with a STEM background, was the very definition of a strict, demanding boss. His shirts were always meticulously buttoned to the top, and he showed no mercy to anyone. Even during the two years I worked as his assistant, the smallest mistake would earn me a public berating until I cried. His employees secretly called him “The Ice King.” Curiosity piqued, I zoomed in on the video. It felt like a lightning strike. The man in full cosplay makeup, his costume open to reveal a set of defined abs… The man spinning the young intern under a shower of confetti petals… It was my husband, Arthur. 1 I stared at the screen, my fingers digging into the back of my phone until they ached. I couldn’t believe the man on the screen, so transformed and carefree, was the same husband who approached every aspect of his life with rigid precision. My hand trembled as I looked up the date of the convention. Last Saturday. My birthday. The same day Arthur told me he had a work dinner and wouldn’t be home. I had never once doubted his word. In my mind, Arthur was more earnest and serious than anyone I knew; he didn’t have the capacity to lie. But this video was a vicious slap in the face. The front door clicked open. Arthur was home. My neck was stiff as I remained on the sofa, not getting up to greet him as I usually did. He walked a few steps into the living room, his brow slowly furrowing. “Is dinner not ready yet?” I blinked. The dry, perfunctory question, so typical of our married life, sounded especially jarring after watching the video. Forcing a smile, I stood and took the jacket he handed me. “I’ll… go get the food.” As he moved his arm, a pink crystal bracelet slipped out from under his cuff. My breath hitched. I instinctively grabbed his hand. “Where did this come from?” Arthur’s expression flickered with something unnatural when he saw my shocked gaze. But just as quickly, his face settled back into its usual cool indifference. “It’s a gift from an employee. She said it’s good for the company’s finances. What’s wrong?” Arthur, the man who only ever wore a single watch and sometimes found even his wedding ring too much of a hassle, suddenly believed in good luck charms? I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “It doesn’t suit you. Take it off.” “If you want financial luck, I got that charm from the temple, remember? I’ll go get it for you.” His brow tightened, and he shut me down with an impatient tone. “No need. I think the pink crystal is fine.” “I’m hungry. Can you serve dinner?” With that, he turned and walked to the dining table. I went into the kitchen, borrowed a friend’s account, and sent a friend request to the intern whose name I’d just looked up. Her most recent post was a picture of two wrists, one wearing the pink bracelet, intertwined. The caption read: “Hehe, bought matching bracelets with my first intern paycheck. My grumpy boss loves it! ;)” The phone slipped from my grasp, clattering onto the counter. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. I scrolled through the intern’s profile—Chloe’s profile—like a form of self-torture. Traces of Arthur were everywhere in the vibrant life she documented. “Oopsie, spilled coffee on my grumpy boss’s files today! Luckily, a few pastries made everything better. He wasn’t even mad! Hehe!” “Told my grumpy boss if he didn’t go to Comic-Con with me as my cosplay partner, I was gonna quit. Hmph.” 2 Looking at my bloodshot eyes in the mirror, I made a decision. The next day at noon, I took the soup I’d prepared and went to Arthur’s office. As luck would have it, he was in a meeting. I waited in his office, my eyes idly scanning the stack of documents on his desk. A frown immediately creased my brow. The formatting was a mess, riddled with typos, and, to my astonishment, sprinkled with cutesy emoticons. Stunned, I immediately called for his assistant, Sean. “Who did this? How did this sloppy mess end up on Mr. Hayes’ desk?” “Get it out of here and have them redo it. Now.” I knew Arthur’s standards. If he saw this, he would explode and verbally tear the person responsible to shreds. But Sean looked incredibly uncomfortable. He stammered that it was fine, that Mr. Hayes wouldn’t mind. Frustrated, I grabbed the document and walked out of the office, demanding to know who had prepared it. Better for me to point out the mistake now so it could be fixed, rather than wait for Arthur’s inevitable wrath. Everyone exchanged strange, awkward glances. Then, a sweet, chirpy voice came from behind me. “I did it. What’s wrong with it? Why does it need to be changed?” I turned around to see a group of people emerging from the main conference room. Arthur was at the front. And pressed close to his side was Chloe. Arthur’s gaze fell on the document in my hand, and his brow furrowed slightly. My heart skipped a beat. So it was her. Well, she’d walked right into the line of fire. Arthur might be lenient about trivial matters, but when it came to his work, he was an absolute perfectionist. But his next words sent a chill through my veins. “Sean, didn’t I have you go over this with her three times? How is it still wrong?” Chloe, completely unafraid, stuck her tongue out playfully. “Oh, come on, Sean explains things so fast! I couldn’t keep up.” Arthur rubbed his temples. His expression was one of weary resignation, but there wasn’t a hint of anger. “Fine. Come to my office after work. I’ll teach you how to do it myself.” I looked up, my eyes wide with disbelief. In that moment, the man in front of me felt like a complete stranger. Not the Arthur I had loved for ten years and been married to for six. The stares from the surrounding employees felt like invisible slaps across my face. Some were amused, some were scornful, and some were tinged with pity. “Who is that woman? Acting so high and mighty. Doesn’t she know Chloe is special to the boss?” “Yeah, the Ice King only ever yells at us. Chloe could probably burn the building down and get away with it.” “Shh, keep it down. That’s his wife!” Just moments ago, I was the one laying down the law. Now, my face was burning with humiliation. Arthur, however, seemed completely oblivious to my discomfort. His tone was cool and detached. “What are you doing here?” My arm fell to my side, all my strength gone. “I made your favorite soup and brought it for you…” Before I could finish, Chloe let out another theatrical gasp. “Oh, Mr. Hayes, I ordered you fried chicken and coke for lunch! I even used two of my coupons for it.” A small smile touched Arthur’s lips, as if he found her antics charming. “Alright. We can’t let those coupons go to waste.” To me, he offered only a single, dismissive sentence. “Take the soup home. Stop acting like a damn housekeeper.” 3 By the time I got home, the soup was cold. So was my heart. Arthur had never been good at taking care of himself. He’d worked himself to the bone during the start-up phase of his company and developed serious stomach problems. I was the one who had quit my job to meticulously research healthy recipes and medicinal broths, nursing him back to health. All those small, detailed acts of love, in his eyes, were no different from what a housekeeper did. A bitter, self-mocking laugh escaped me. In the ten years I’d been with Arthur, I never knew he was capable of such blatant favoritism. That evening, Arthur came home. As he walked in, he instinctively pressed a hand to his stomach. I knew the fried chicken and coke would have upset it. A bowl of warm, stomach-soothing soup was already on the table. When he saw it, his expression softened slightly. As he began to eat, his movements familiar and routine, I suddenly spoke. “Arthur, if you’ve had a change of heart, if you’re cheating on me, you can just tell me.” Arthur nearly choked. He wiped his mouth, his face flushing with irritation. “Chloe is just an intern. She’s young and a bit playful. Why are you making a big deal out of it?” “Besides,” he added, “she went to our university. She’s an underclassman. It’s only natural I’d look out for her a bit more.” Tears suddenly streamed down my face, a profound sadness washing over me. “I didn’t even say her name, and you’re already jumping to her defense.” And he had the audacity to claim there was nothing between them? Arthur was speechless. I pulled up the Comic-Con video, still trending, and showed it to him. Then I showed him Chloe’s social media posts. As he looked at the evidence, his expression slowly hardened, a cool disappointment filling his eyes. “Sarah, when did you become so… common?” “Snooping on people’s social media, showing up at my office to check on me… You had a comfortable life as Mrs. Hayes. Was that not enough? Did you have to stir up all this drama?” He slammed his bowl down on the table with a loud crack. A chip flew off the rim. I was so stunned I forgot to cry. “It’s just a young girl’s fantasies posted online. Am I supposed to police what my employees post on their personal accounts?” He insisted that nothing had crossed the line between him and Chloe. The only reason he was looking out for her, he claimed, was to maintain a good boss-employee relationship and retain a promising new hire. “If you don’t believe me, there’s nothing more I can say.” “Sarah, I expected you to mature with me, to grow. Not to regress into this foolish, paranoid woman. You’re disappointing me.” After that night, Arthur started staying at the office, using the excuse of being busy. Until our sixth wedding anniversary arrived. The doorbell rang. It was a delivery guy. “Mrs. Hayes, a cake from your husband.” A flicker of hope ignited within me. This was the first time Arthur had ever proactively arranged for an anniversary cake. Had he really matured? Had he learned how to show affection? I opened the box and froze. A large, mocking number “4” was formed by the candles. It pierced my heart. Arthur, the man who’d aced his college entrance exams, who could recall hundreds of data sets with perfect accuracy, couldn’t even remember how many years we’d been married. A strangled laugh escaped me, tears rolling down my cheeks as I did. My phone rang. It was Arthur, his voice as flat and robotic as ever. “Did you get the cake? Are you still upset?” I quietly wiped my tears away. “Will you see a movie with me tonight?” Animal Romance 2 was out. The first one had been released right after we got married. I had begged and pleaded for him to go with me. He had paused his typing, tapping his watch. “Do you have any idea how many lines of code I could write in the 120 minutes we’d waste at a movie theater?” “Sarah, time is valuable. I need your support.” I took a deep breath, pushing away the unpleasant memory. “Arthur, please. It’s my only request for our anniversary.” 4 His tone hardened with impatience. “How old are you? You still want me to watch that childish nonsense?” “I have a work dinner tonight. I won’t be home. Just eat the cake and go to bed early.” He hung up before I could say another word. I threw the cake in the trash and bought a single movie ticket. But at the theater, I saw two familiar figures. Chloe was clinging to Arthur’s arm, happily bouncing in line to collect the movie’s limited-edition couple’s merchandise. She playfully snapped a fox-ear headband onto Arthur’s head and put on a pair of bunny ears herself. They pressed their cheeks together for a selfie. I opened my phone. A new post had just appeared on my feed. “Yay! At Animal Romance with my grumpy boss! This is my reward for being such a hardworking little intern and helping him with his overtime! ;)” In that moment, all the patience and restraint I had mustered shattered. I stormed over and slammed the bucket of popcorn and the large soda down on both of their heads. Chloe let out a piercing scream. Arthur instinctively pulled her into his arms, shielding her. When he saw my face, his eyes blazed with anger. “Sarah, are you following me? When is this going to end?!” I slapped him hard across the face, my voice breaking as I screamed, “Being with me was a waste of your precious time, wasn’t it? You were never willing to compromise or change for me! But you can waste day after day with Chloe, going to conventions, wearing cheap matching bracelets?” “Arthur, do you even have a heart? Why are you being so cruel to me?!” A crowd gathered around us, phones out, recording everything. Chloe buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Realizing the situation was escalating, Arthur shoved me aside, threw his coat over Chloe, and rushed her out of the theater. But it was too late. The video went viral. “Isn’t that the ‘cutest couple’ from Comic-Con? Turns out the guy is married! Gross.” “An intern seducing her boss and then flaunting it online? The nerve of these young homewreckers.” “And he did it on his SIXTH wedding anniversary with his wife. I’m disgusted. I hope the cheater and the mistress both get what they deserve.” A few days later, Arthur, who hadn’t been home, video-called me, his face a mask of fury. “Chloe is being destroyed online. She’s too scared to even leave her apartment. The cyberbullying got so bad she tried to kill herself with sleeping pills!” “Are you happy now? You got what you wanted with your cheap, underhanded tricks, didn’t you?” Through the screen, the man I had loved for a decade looked terrifyingly alien. “I’m warning you, Sarah. You will record a video apologizing to Chloe. You will admit you were wrong and clarify that she is innocent in all of this!” I bit my lip, refusing. Arthur’s expression turned to ice. “Either you apologize, or we get a divorce. You have two choices.” There was a knock on the door. Just as he’d planned, a lawyer was there with divorce papers, already signed by Arthur. “I’m not forcing you, Sarah. You brought this on yourself. You dug your own grave.” His tone was calm, confident. He was handling this like a business negotiation, certain I would choose the first option. He gave me an ultimatum. A video of my apology had to be online before Chloe woke up. “Otherwise, wife or not, I will handle this professionally.” “You can expect a lawsuit from the company’s legal department.” With that final threat, he ended the call. The screen went dark, reflecting my determined face. An hour later, the lawyer’s phone rang right on schedule. “Well? Has she recorded the apology video?” “Mr. Hayes… Mrs. Hayes has signed the divorce papers.”
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