On our seventh anniversary, my husband Jake and I played the happy couple at a product launch. He kept checking his phone, so I teased, "Worried your girlfriend is jealous?" He dismissed it as an act. On the big screen, a video from our early days played—showing his tearful proposal and a vow: "If I ever break my promise, may lightning strike me down." Moved, he reached for my hand and reminisced about our shared dreams. I cut him off softly. "Jake, let's divorce. As your wife, I can't just watch you get struck by lightning, can I?" 1 The conference hall was buzzing. Reporters, media, and our own employees held their breath, waiting for the unveiling of the new product. It was a serious, high-stakes occasion. Which made it all the more jarring when I saw Jake secretly checking his phone. Honestly, it was just a glance. But the screen was bright, the contact name impossible to miss: Maya, followed by a little kissing emoji. It seemed my husband’s little girlfriend wasn’t thrilled about us playing the perfect couple for the press. So, I leaned in, my voice a low murmur. “You look a little on edge, Mr. Croft.” I let a beat pass. “What’s the matter? Worried your little girlfriend might get jealous?” He shot me a look, his jaw tightening. “Watch yourself, Stella. Don’t go looking for trouble.” I hadn’t expected him to be so fiercely protective of Maya Lane. Acknowledging my defeat, I shut my mouth. Just then, the host walked on stage, breaking the tense silence. “And now, please join me in welcoming our CEO, Mr. Jake Croft, to unveil our exciting new product!” Jake stood, smoothed his suit with practiced ease, and walked to the podium, his expression once again cool and commanding. He began his presentation, expertly navigating the features of our new app. Cameras flashed from the audience as reporters documented the moment. After the presentation, the floor opened for questions. “Mr. Croft, what was the inspiration behind this new product?” a reporter asked. Jake answered eloquently, his gaze finally settling on me in the front row, his expression turning warm and affectionate. “And I have to give special thanks to my wife, Stella Shen,” he said, his voice ringing with sincerity. “Without her initial concept and guidance, this launch would not have been nearly so successful.” A wave of applause and cheers swept through the room, and all eyes turned to me. I smiled, a picture of grace and poise, and gave a small nod to the crowd. He wasn’t lying. I had been deeply involved in the product’s development. It was a lifestyle app, designed to help friends and couples document their shared experiences. I’d proposed the idea years ago. We’d been so poor when we started out, Jake and I. We’d missed out on so much. When I looked back, trying to piece together the story of our relationship, I realized with a pang of sorrow that we had almost nothing to show for it. No photos, no keepsakes. Jake had agreed it was a great idea, but he’d never gotten around to it. In the end, I had taken charge of the project myself. A sharp voice cut through the applause. “Mr. Croft, you and Ms. Shen seemed to be having a rather tense moment on stage earlier. Will that affect the project’s future?” The reporter wasn’t finished. “And another thing—rumor has it your marriage is on the rocks, and that you’ve been seen quite often with the actress Maya Lane. Do you have any comment?” Jake’s face darkened. He was about to speak, but I beat him to it. “That was just a little inside joke between us,” I said smoothly, my voice calm and reassuring. “It won’t affect a thing. Now, if we could all please focus on the product, instead of baseless gossip, I’m sure we’d all appreciate it.” My words silenced the room. The host quickly stepped in, steering the conversation back to the app. Thankfully, the lead product designer took over Jake’s spot, and as the buzz of conversation resumed, Jake sat back down next to me. “Well said,” he murmured, a rare compliment. I didn’t smile. My eyes were fixed on an LED screen across the room. It was playing the VCR from seven years ago, from his public proposal. He looked so young then, the rawness of a recent graduate still clinging to him. His eyes were wet with tears, his emotions genuine. The hands holding the ring box and the microphone were shaking. He’d said, “Stella, I love you. Without your unwavering support, I would never have made it this far. Will you marry me? I swear I will love you and cherish you for the rest of my life. You will be the only one for me, always. If I ever break this vow, may lightning strike me down where I stand.” A few reporters noticed us watching the screen and turned their cameras our way. Jake, ever aware of the press, instinctively took my hand, his gaze complicated. “Stella,” he started, “we always talked about creating a product just like this, to record the moments of our lives…” This time, I didn’t have the patience to hear him out. I cut him off gently. “Jake, we’re husband and wife. I can’t just stand by and watch you get struck by lightning.” His face froze, but the cameras were on him, so he forced a smile. I smiled back, my eyes full of sincerity. “What I mean is,” I said, my voice clear and steady, “let’s get a divorce.” 2 Of course, Jake didn't agree. He made a flimsy excuse and bolted from the press conference. A few minutes later, my phone buzzed with a text from him. [Stella, if you think you can threaten me with a divorce, you can forget it. I’m not playing your games.] [Who’s going to want you after me? Do yourself a favor and go back to being the quiet, supportive wife. Know your place.] I let out a bitter laugh and turned off the screen. He had no idea. This time, I was serious. But before I could make a move, Jake made one of his own. He announced to the public that Maya Lane would be the official brand ambassador for our new product. He had made a unilateral decision about my project, without even consulting me. Suppressing a wave of fury, I drove straight to the office. When I arrived, I found Maya herself there, handing out bubble tea to the staff. She saw me and walked over, a cup in her hand. “You must be Stella Shen, the project lead. It’s a pleasure. Here, have a drink. My treat.” Her smile was saccharine sweet, and it set my teeth on edge. I stood my ground, my eyes cold, and made no move to take the cup. Her smile widened. She raised her voice so everyone could hear. “What’s wrong, Stella? You’re not going to be rude in front of everyone, are you?” God, the passive aggression was suffocating. My colleagues were all pretending to be busy, but I could feel their curious stares. “I’m sorry,” I said, my own smile just as bright, “but I don’t like bubble tea. Forcing me to drink it seems a little rude, don’t you think?” Two can play at that game. Maya’s expression faltered for a second before she put her innocent mask back on. “Oh, of course not! I was just worried you were upset about me being the ambassador. I’m so glad that’s not the case. I told Jake I’ve never endorsed a tech product before, that I wasn’t the right fit. But he insisted. He said the app was practically made for me. Isn’t that funny?” My fists clenched at my sides. I leaned in close, my voice a whisper in her ear. “You really think this spokesperson deal is set in stone?” The color drained from her face. “What do you mean?” I pulled back with a fearless smile. “Nothing. Just a joke. Can’t you take a joke?” She glanced around, saw the watching eyes, and quickly composed herself, transforming back into the cheerful, bubbly starlet. “Of course I can. Besides, it’s not like you have any real power in this company, right? You couldn’t even say no to me being the ambassador.” I gritted my teeth. “I have enough power for that. But…” “Oh!” Suddenly, the bubble tea in Maya’s hand “slipped,” splashing all over her pristine white dress. Her face was a mask of shock. “Stella, why would you do that?” And right on cue, a familiar voice boomed from behind me. “What’s going on here?” 3 I turned to see Jake striding towards us, his face a thundercloud. What a tired, old cliché, I thought. The moment Maya saw him, her eyes welled up with tears. “Jake,” she sobbed, “I was just trying to be nice and give Stella some tea, but I guess she didn’t want it. It was my fault for being so thoughtless.” I rolled my eyes. The surrounding colleagues suddenly became incredibly absorbed in their work. It was no secret in the office that my relationship with Jake was not what it seemed. And with Maya in the picture, no one wanted to get caught in the crossfire. Jake’s gaze, full of accusation, landed on me. “Stella, no one forced you to drink it. Why would you do that?” “If you weren't blind, Jake,” I retorted, my voice dripping with ice, “you’d have seen that she did it herself. What right do you have to stand there and accuse me?” I turned my glare on Maya. “And you. If your hands are that weak, go see a doctor. Don’t stand here framing people.” Maya just sobbed harder. “Jake, don’t blame her. It was my fault. I was clumsy.” Jake put a comforting arm around her shoulder, as if they were the married couple. “Don’t worry. She won’t hurt you.” Then he turned his fury back on me. “Stella, you will apologize to Maya. Now.” My hands were shaking with rage. I couldn’t believe he would be so blatantly biased. I looked at the two of them, the cheater and the homewrecker, a perfect match. “Apologize?” I spat. “For something she did herself? When did you become so incapable of telling right from wrong, Jake? You’ll believe her without question, but what about me?” His voice was cold, detached, as if I were a stranger. “Stella, don’t be unreasonable. This is my company, and what I say goes. Apologize.” I stood my ground, my eyes locked on Maya. She shivered like a frightened deer and buried her face in Jake’s chest. I was the clown in this circus, exposed for all to see. I don’t remember how I left the office. All I remember is the shame, and the feeling of being utterly, completely alone. 4 That night, I called my best friend and went out for drinks. They say alcohol drowns your sorrows, so I tried to drown myself in it. My heart was full of a bitter poison I couldn’t spit out, so I drank, swallowing it down with every sip. My friend knew better than to try and stop me. She just sat with me, letting me vent, and then made sure I got home safely. The apartment was dark, except for a dim light in the living room. I could just make out a figure sitting on the couch. It was Jake. A rare sight. He watched my stumbling entrance, his voice cutting through the silence. “Where have you been, out making a fool of yourself? You come back this late, drunk, when we still haven’t dealt with the scene you made at the office today.” I squinted, trying to focus on him. “What’s it to you? And who let you in? This is my place. Get out, or I’m calling the police.” He stood up and crossed the room in three long strides, catching me as I swayed. “Look at the state of you!” He looked furious. Good. He was probably here to demand justice for his precious Maya. I didn’t even want to look at him. I shoved his hands off me, nearly losing my balance. “The state of me?” I yelled, pointing a finger at his chest. “What about you? You blame me without a second thought, every single time! Do I owe you something, Jake?” He grabbed me again, his grip too strong to break. “You caused a scene at the office! Do you have any idea how that looks?” The injustice of it all exploded inside me. Tears streamed down my face. “And you, siding with your mistress in front of the entire company? How does that look? Jake, you—!” Before I could finish, his hands were around my throat, pinning me against the wall. “Stella, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve cheated, is it? Why couldn’t you just pretend you don’t know, like you always do? Why did you have to make it public this time?” I laughed, a broken, hysterical sound. My tears dripped onto his wrist. “You want me to just keep tolerating it? I stayed quiet because I thought you would change. But all you ever do is disappoint me, again and again. I’m done tolerating it.” He was silent for a moment. He released his grip, his voice softening slightly. “Can’t you bring your grievances home? Do you have to air our dirty laundry in public? Is this your idea of dignity?” I couldn’t take it anymore. I screamed at him, a raw, primal sound. “Stop lecturing me, Jake! I don’t want to hear it! I just want to know why! Why would you take the project I poured my heart and soul into and just hand it over to your lover? You didn’t even ask me! Do you have any idea… any idea that this was the project we dreamed of, seven years ago…?” My voice trailed off. I sank onto the couch and buried my face in my hands, sobbing. He stood there in silence. Finally, he let out a long sigh. “If that’s what you want to believe, I can’t stop you.” My tears stopped as if a switch had been flipped. My heart was dead. I wiped my face. “Jake,” I said, my voice empty. “Let’s get a divorce.” He frowned. “Stella, I told you, I don’t like this. Can you stop throwing that word around?” I looked him straight in the eye. “I’m serious.” He couldn’t meet my gaze. He looked like a cornered animal, desperate for an escape. “You’re drunk,” he said, backing towards the door. “We’ll talk about this another time.” I watched him flee, a cold smile on my lips. He was running, not from me, but from the wreckage of our marriage. But when I set my mind to something, I see it through. A divorce. It wasn’t far off now.
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