The seventh time Nydia missed my birthday, she promised she’d make it up to me. So, I waited. I sat at the peak of Echo Ridge for over three hours as the sky opened up, pouring down a freezing, relentless rain. She never showed. Instead, her young assistant posted a photo of the two of them on social media, captioned from a hotel room. “Thanks to Boss Nydia for the limited-edition watch.” “Someone who loves you never makes you wait; I always get what I want right away~” In the photo, they were tangled together on a plush, red velvet bed, their fingers tightly intertwined, their shirts off. The diamond wedding band Nydia usually wore was nowhere to be seen. In its place were dark purple hickeys and “I love you” scribbled across her collarbone in permanent marker. I stood there in the dark, swallowing the bitter taste of bile rising in my throat. I blocked the number, deleted the contact, and made a silent vow to scrub Nydia—and everything she brought with her—out of my life for good. 1 Less than five minutes after I blocked him, my phone buzzed. It was Nydia. “Did you delete Chase?” she demanded, her voice sharp. “Add him back right now.” I didn’t say anything, listening to her breathe on the other end. “He’s new to the corporate world, Duke. He didn’t know any better. He thinks he did something to upset you and he’s been crying in the room for an hour. Add him back, explain yourself, apologize, and I’ll let this slide.” He took what was mine, and she wanted me to apologize. I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “In your dreams.” The line went quiet for a beat. When Nydia spoke again, her tone had shifted from anger to a weary, practiced exasperation. “Are you really throwing a tantrum over Chase again? How many times do I have to tell you? We grew up together. He’s like family to me. Now that he’s working at my company, of course I’m going to look out for him. Besides, look at the weather. It’s pouring, and his health has always been fragile. I couldn’t just leave him stranded in the storm.” The more she rationalized, the hollower her voice sounded. She seemed to have completely forgotten that I was the one with chronic health issues—the very reason I had stepped back from my own career to hand the reins of the business over to her. Tired of the noise, I cut her off. “I’m still at Echo Ridge.” I had waited three hours. I’d been sitting in the freezing rain for the last sixty minutes. There was no shelter up here, and the winding mountain paths were too slick to navigate in the dark during a storm. For a split second, a crack of panic leaked into her voice. “Stay there. Don’t move. I’m coming to get you.” I waited another hour. By the time the rain finally stopped, Nydia still hadn’t arrived. The trail down was slick with mud. Within a few steps, my boots were ruined, my jeans splattered with cold sludge. I sneezed, shivering violently, feeling my heart sink straight into the dirt. It felt cold, heavy, and utterly numb. When I finally got back to my apartment, I took a scorching hot shower to stop the shaking. As I was drying off, my phone buzzed. It was a video call from an unknown number. I answered. Chase’s face filled the screen. “Hey, Duke,” he cooed, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “Are you mad at Nydia because she bought me this watch? I can ask her to buy you one too, if you want. You don’t have to be so petty over a little birthday gift, do you?” The malice in his eyes was unmistakable. The watch was a limited-edition piece—only a handful existed in the world. He knew I’d been eyeing it for months, hoping it would be my birthday present. Yet he had taken it, parading it in front of me like a trophy. My head throbbed. I didn’t have the energy to fight. I popped a couple of sinus pills and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep. I don’t know how long I was out before the blankets were violently ripped off me. “Why didn’t you wait for me? Do you have any idea how long I spent looking for you?” Nydia stood over the bed, looking exhausted and annoyed. “I’m starving. Get up and make some dinner. And brew some ginger tea while you’re at it—Chase got caught in the rain, and I need to drop some off for him.” The sudden shock made my headache flare. I looked up at her, my voice laced with pure disgust. “Did Chase not feed you enough tonight?” Nydia stiffened, her eyes flashing with rage. “Duke! Are you seriously starting this again? I explained everything to you. Meeting Chase tonight was a complete coincidence. Do you have to make a federal case out of every little thing? And to think I actually brought you a surprise.” She threw a small velvet box at me. It caught me right on the corner of my eye. The sharp edge sliced the skin, and a sharp, stinging pain made my eyes water instantly. She blinked, startled by her own violence, and stepped closer to inspect the cut. But as she bent over me, a heavy wave of cologne hit my nose. It was Chase’s signature scent—cloyingly sweet and expensive. Disgusted, I shoved her away. My gaze fell to the floor where the velvet box had landed. The watch had slipped out. On its pristine sapphire glass was a dried, sticky smear of fluid. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they had been doing while wearing it. A wave of nausea hit me. I kicked the watch back toward her feet. “Save your pathetic gestures, Nydia,” I said, my voice cold and flat. “I don’t want a watch another man has worn. And I certainly don’t want a woman another man has used.” 2 “Stop talking nonsense. I’m taking you to the ER.” Nydia looked at the bead of blood swelling at the corner of my eye, a flicker of genuine worry crossing her face. Ignoring my weak protests, she hauled me out of bed. She was so determined to play the part of the doting, concerned wife that she didn’t even let me grab a jacket. Shaking and feverish, I climbed into the passenger seat. The air conditioning was blasting, so I reached into the back seat for the wool throw blanket. When I pulled it, my finger caught in a massive, ragged tear. As the fabric unraveled, a pair of worn men’s boxer briefs tumbled onto my lap. Nydia caught my expression in the rearview mirror. She cleared her throat, brushing it off. “It’s probably just Chase playing a prank. He’s always had a childish sense of humor. Don’t look at me like that.” She sighed, stepping on the gas. “Honestly, Duke, I work myself to the bone every single day to provide for this lifestyle, and you’re giving me attitude over a ruined blanket? You don’t have half the grace or understanding that Chase does.” The wool blanket was the last thing my grandmother had made for me before she passed. She had spent weeks hand-stitching it as a wedding gift for us, knowing she wouldn’t live to see our first anniversary. I quietly folded it and tucked it into my bag. I didn’t say a word. Then, the car console lit up. It was Courtney, one of Nydia’s close friends. “Hey, Nydia! We’re all waiting for you to celebrate the ten-year anniversary of you and Chase’s first hand-hold. Where are you?” She forgot my birthday, but she remembered the exact date she first held Chase’s hand. In the background, I heard Chase’s voice filter through the speaker, dripping with condescension. “Why do you think? She’s probably dealing with her trophy husband. Honestly, marrying a guy like that must be a living nightmare.” Nydia shot a guilty look in my direction, muttering a quick “behave yourself” into the phone, before spinning the steering wheel to head toward the GPS coordinates Courtney had sent. Panic flared in my chest. “I don’t want to go. Take me home.” Every time I was forced to hang out with Chase and her friends, it ended in humiliation. The first time, Chase and his buddies took turns pressure-drinking me until I ended up in the emergency room with acute gastritis. The second time, Chase—fully aware of my severe peanut allergy—deliberately slipped peanut butter into my dessert, then took photos of my swollen, hives-covered face and posted them to the company’s Slack channel. I had been the butt of their jokes too many times. I wasn’t going to play their toy tonight. But Nydia had already wiped those memories clean. To her, I was just being difficult. “Duke, don’t be so selfish. Am I supposed to alienate all my friends just to appease your insecurity?” “Then go by yourself. Let me out.” My head was pounding, the fever cooking my brain. I didn’t even have the energy to argue. But her stubborn streak kicked in. “No. Insulting my friends is insulting me. You’re coming.” She softened her voice slightly, attempting a patronizing stroke of my hair. “Just come say hello, and we’ll leave. Don’t ruin my night.” By the time we arrived at the lounge, it was past two in the morning. The moment we walked through the VIP booth doors, a bucket of ice water was splashed directly onto my face. As I stood there, shivering, my wet shirt clinging to my chest, Chase laughed. “Welcome to the party! Do you like the initiation?” Seeing my pale, trembling frame, a couple of people tried to smooth things over, pulling Nydia into the booth. There were four seats around the low table. Nydia, Chase, Courtney, and Kyle sat down. I was left standing. Chase’s grin widened. “Oh, looks like we’re out of seats… Maybe you should just head home, Duke. It’s not like you’d understand what we’re talking about anyway.” Kyle, Nydia’s cousin, chimed in. “Yeah, bro-in-law, don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on Nydia for you.” Years ago, when Kyle was starting her business, she begged me for a hundred-thousand-dollar loan. She called me her favorite brother-in-law and promised she’d always have my back. Yet later, she was the one who whispered to Nydia, “How did you end up with Duke anyway? Chase is ten times the man he is.” And Courtney. She was always sweet to my face when she needed a favor, but behind my back, she and Chase mocked me as a tasteless lottery-winner, gladly helping Nydia cover up her trysts. They were a pack of hyenas. I stared at the empty space between them, letting out a long, quiet sigh. “You don’t need to worry about the seating arrangement,” I said. “We’re getting a divorce. That should free up plenty of space.” 3 Nydia froze, her face slack with disbelief. In all our years together, I had never embarrassed her in front of her inner circle. No matter how late she stayed out drinking, one call and I would drive across the city to bring her home, asking for nothing in return. But I was done sacrificing my dignity at her altar. The booth fell dead silent. Courtney and Kyle began stammering, trying to diffuse the tension, while Chase rolled his eyes. “Divorce? Again? Is this what, the fifth time you’ve threatened that?” Chase sneered. “Nydia, your kept man really has a flare for drama, doesn’t he?” Embarrassed and angry, Nydia stood up, her voice dropping an octave. “Duke, have I spoiled you so much that you think you can talk to me like this? Have you forgotten how you literally begged me on your knees not to leave you?” Without another word, I turned and walked out into the cool night air. When Chase first returned from abroad, I had fought with Nydia constantly over their inappropriately close “friendship.” Every time, her answer was the same: “If you don’t like it, get a divorce.” Back then, I was still desperately in love with her. I would apologize, take the blame, and beg for her forgiveness. I had knelt on our hardwood floor, weeping in the dead of night, while she used my devotion as a doormat. Not this time. I went back to our house, packed my bags, and moved into the small downtown studio apartment I had bought before we got married. I had purchased it with my own savings. Nydia had thrown a fit when she found out. “Only an idiot buys a tiny studio in the city. It’s embarrassing. You should have put that money toward a sports car for me so I look good driving to meetings.” My parents eventually bought her a luxury SUV as part of our wedding arrangements, which seemed to pacify her. I was deeply relieved I hadn’t listened to her back then. This studio was my sanctuary now. And that luxury SUV? It had essentially become Chase’s personal ride. By the time I finished unpacking, the sun was rising. Exhausted but unable to sleep, I went down to the local copy shop and printed out a standard divorce agreement. When I got back to the studio building, Nydia was waiting outside my door. I blinked in surprise. This was the first time she had ever sought me out first. “Look, about last night—I went too far,” she said, though her tone was still laced with condescension. “But you shouldn’t have embarrassed me in front of my friends. Go apologize to Chase, and we’ll put this behind us.” I remembered what Chase had told her as I walked out the night before: “Duke behaves this way because you tolerate it. You need to train him. If you won’t do it, I will.” He had listed a whole playbook of manipulation tactics: financial withholding, silent treatment, emotional gaslighting. Listening to him, I realized Nydia had already been using every single one of them on me. She body-shamed me, comparing me unfavorably to Chase. She told me I was useless, destined to be nothing more than a glorified housekeeper. If I protested, she would snap: “Chase helps me run a multi-million dollar company. What do you do? He has an Ivy League degree. You have no right to compare yourself to him.” She forgot that I had abandoned my own career path and family connections to support her because I loved her. If she couldn’t respect that sacrifice, there was nothing left to say. I thrust the divorce papers into her hands and unlocked my door. Panic finally cracked through her cool exterior. She pushed past the threshold, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist from behind. “Stop being like this. I’ll apologize, okay? I’m sorry.” Her hands began to slide under my shirt, tracing my skin. “I know I’ve been distant lately. You’re angry, I get it. What if we start trying for a baby? I promise we can do it now.” Disgusted, I ripped myself from her grip and shoved her away with everything I had. “Don’t touch me. You make my skin crawl.” Nydia stumbled back, hitting the drywall, her eyes flashing with sudden anger. But before she could speak, my vision went black, and my knees buckled beneath me. 4 When I opened my eyes, the smell of antiseptic told me I was in a hospital room. My head was heavy, and my eyelids felt like lead. But before I could even pull myself up, a low, muffled moan drifted from the other side of the privacy curtain. “Nydia… this is so risky. What if Duke wakes up and catches us?” Nydia’s voice was breathless, heavy with exertion. “He won’t. I had the doctor slip some sedatives into his IV. He’s out cold. We have plenty of time.” The rhythmic squeak of a hospital bed and the wet, heavy sounds of their intimacy filtered through the thin fabric. I could see the distorted shadows of their bodies tangled together. Bile surged in my throat. I tried to pull myself up to escape, but my sedated muscles failed me, and I rolled off the mattress, crashing hard onto the linoleum floor. The noise cut the sounds short. The curtain was shoved aside. Nydia stood there, frantically buttoning her blouse, looking down at me. “Duke? You’re awake?” She tried to smooth her disheveled hair. “Chase was so worried about you. He actually brought you something to eat.” She pointed to the bedside table, where a plastic container of leftover seafood porridge sat. Right in the center was a thick dollop of peanut butter. Just as toxic and sickening as the two of them. Nydia, entirely oblivious to her own cruelty, sighed. “Duke, look, we can fight, but don’t play games with your health. You passed out from a massive fever. You scared me to death.” “And whose fault is that?” I rasped, my throat raw. “Who left me in the rain? Who dragged me out of bed and took me to a bar instead of an ER?” Nydia looked away, a brief flicker of guilt crossing her face. “Let’s not talk about that right now. Just eat something. Chase made this especially for you.” My eyes fixed on the peanut butter. Nydia’s gaze followed mine, and she suddenly paled. “Oh… I forgot. It’s fine, I’ll order you some takeout.” Before she could unlock her phone, Chase wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Nydia, the smell of bleach in here is giving me a headache. Let’s go grab a coffee downstairs.” Nydia looked at me, torn. “Go,” I said quietly, turning my back to them. I swept the container of porridge into the trash and cracked the window open to let the fresh air in. After a moment of hesitation, Chase pulled her out the door. “I’ll be right back,” she called out over her shoulder. She didn’t come back. An hour later, I ordered my own food, finished my IV drip, and went to the front desk to get my discharge paperwork. The doctor, a middle-aged woman with tired eyes, looked at my chart and then up at me. “The woman who brought you in… is she your wife?” “Soon-to-be ex-wife,” I replied. “Ah. That explains it.” The doctor sighed, handing me my prescriptions. “The young man she was with… he’s a frequent flyer here. Your wife brought him in for an abortion last year. They listed her as the mother and him as the father.” She scribbled her personal cell number on the back of the discharge slip. “Keep this. If you feel dizzy or need anything else, call me directly.” I took the slip, my chest tightening, and gave her a tight, grateful nod. When I got back to my studio, a text from Nydia popped up. An emergency came up at the office. I had to run. Let me know if you need anything, I’ll come straight over. At the exact same time, a notification popped up on Instagram. An anonymous account had posted a photo: Office play. Best Tuesday ever! In the photo, Nydia was draped over her office desk, her blouse half-unbuttoned, while Chase grinned at the camera. In the background, on the corner of her desk, lay an empty condom wrapper. My skin crawled. I felt physically dirty just looking at it. I immediately booked an appointment at a private clinic for a full panel of STD tests. The physician there was incredibly kind, offering me a warm cup of coffee while I waited for the blood draw. It was the first time in days I felt like a human being. But the peace didn’t last. When I unlocked my apartment door that evening, my heart stopped. The tiny studio was packed. My parents, Nydia’s parents, Nydia, and Chase were all standing in the cramped space. Nydia’s eyes were red, staring at the divorce agreement on the counter. Chase stood beside her, arms crossed, looking smug. “I’ve never met anyone as shameless as you,” Chase spat the moment I walked in. “Nydia treats you like a king, and you’re out here sleeping around with other women.” My mother stepped forward, holding a printout of a photo—it was me and the clinic doctor having coffee. “Duke, what is this? Nydia says you’re having an affair and demanding a divorce. We thought you two were happy.” Nydia’s mother slammed her hand on my small dining table. “Divorce him, Nydia! We don’t need a cheating, deceitful man in our family.” “No wonder you couldn’t give Nydia a child all these years,” she sneered, looking me up and down. “You’ve probably been running around with cheap girls, ruining your own body.” A barrage of vile, disgusting accusations filled the room. I looked at Nydia, my chest heaving with silent rage. “Nydia, you really love spinning a victim narrative, don’t you?” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “Do you honestly think I don’t know what you’ve been doing?” “I was going to let you walk away with some dignity. But since you want to drag my name through the mud, let’s lay it all out.” I walked into my closet and pulled out a heavy metal lockbox. The day I packed my things, I had stumbled upon a secret far worse than her infidelity. I had kept it to myself, waiting for the right moment to lay my cards on the table. That moment had arrived.
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