I returned from my week-long business trip a day early, expecting the familiar, warm chaos of coming home. Instead, the house was dead silent. In the middle of the living room floor sat my six-year-old son, Toby, quietly drawing by himself. Stacked on the small table next to him were several loaves of packaged sandwich bread. I frowned, stepping forward. When Toby looked up and saw me, his face lit up with pure joy. “Mom! You’re home!” I pulled him into a tight embrace, then reached over to check the bread on the table. The receipt stuck to the bag showed they had all been bought the day after I left. Most commercial sandwich bread only has a shelf life of three days. More than half of these were already past their expiration date. “Toby, have you only been eating this for the last seven days?” Toby nodded, his small shoulders shifting under his shirt. He looked noticeably thinner. “Daddy said he was busy.” A sharp, painful ache flared in my chest. I pulled out my phone to call my husband, but before I could dial, a notification popped up on social media. It was a post from his secretary, Amber. “Work has been absolutely crazy, but the boss actually took the time to personally cook for us tonight. It was so delicious, it’s completely ruining my diet! He says I’m too thin and need to eat more. Huge thanks to him for looking after us this week.” Attached were photos of the two of them, sitting across from each other at a small table, sharing an intimate, candlelit dinner that looked like something out of a romance novel. I clenched my fist so hard my fingernails bit deep into my palm. If a man can’t manage to be a decent husband, and can’t even manage to be a father to his own child, then he doesn’t deserve the titles. … I took Toby by the hand and walked out the door. I took him to a quiet, family-run diner down the street. Because his stomach hadn’t processed any real oil or nutrients for days, I couldn’t just feed him a heavy meal; we had to start slow, with a simple, clear chicken broth. Watching him inhale the food broke my heart. No child willingly chooses to eat dry, cold bread for days on end. The only real meal he’d had since I left was the food I prepared for him on my departure day. He had even sent me a sweet text back then: “Mom, today’s dinner was so yummy.” I gently stroked his hair. If I had known this would happen, I would have prepped a whole week’s worth of meals. Or better yet, I would have declined the trip entirely. No job, no partnership, was worth more than my son. Children have a heartbreakingly high tolerance for pain. They forget the bad things so quickly. Toby was already smiling again, looking up at me with bright eyes, telling me how pretty I looked when I was working hard and that I didn’t need to worry about him. After dinner, I took him to a pediatric clinic for a checkup. Fortunately, there was no permanent damage—just mild malnutrition. The doctor told me that with proper meals and rest, he would recover just fine. Once we got back home, I sent Toby upstairs to play in his room. I sat in the living room, waiting to settle the score with Zack. He walked through the door shortly after. He looked genuinely surprised to see me home early, but the moment he crossed the threshold, I locked my eyes onto him. “I was gone for a week, Zack. And you fed our son nothing but white bread for seven days. Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” A flicker of guilt crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by a sigh. “I’m sorry. Things got incredibly hectic at the office this week. I promise it won’t happen again.” Always the same excuses. He was busy enough to cook a gourmet dinner for his secretary, yet he couldn’t find the time to make a simple plate of pasta for his own son. He couldn’t even bother to pick up takeout on his way home. The truth was simple: he just didn’t care. A cold wave of bitterness washed over me. Before I left, he had stood in this exact hallway, looking me in the eyes and promising me everything would be fine. “Have you forgotten?” he had said, smiling. “My cooking was the only thing that got you through your morning sickness. Leave the boy to me. I’ve got this.” And so I had trusted him. Yet the very day after I boarded my flight, he checked out of his fatherly duties and left Toby with a mountain of bread. Because the shelf life was only three days, Toby spent the latter half of the week choking down stale, expired food. I remembered how Zack used to complain if Toby ate more than two slices of bread, lecturing me about nutrition. “Too much processed yeast isn’t healthy, Donna. If he fills up on bread, he won’t eat his vegetables, and he won’t grow properly.” Now, he didn’t care if his son ate moldy bread. Where had all that parental concern gone? Who was receiving his care and attention now? The thought of Toby sitting alone in the quiet house, assuming his father was doing incredibly important work and trying his best not to be a burden, made my chest ache with a physical tightness. “Zack,” I said, my voice quiet but steady. “I want a divorce.” Before the words could even settle in the air, the front door swung open. My mother-in-law, Helen, who had just returned from a vacation, hurried into the room. She had apparently heard about Toby being taken to the clinic and came rushing over. She immediately turned on Zack, throwing her hands up. “Didn’t you tell me you could handle things? I only went on a trip with my friends because you assured me you had it under control! How did my grandson end up in the clinic?” Zack stood there, quietly taking his mother’s scolding. I couldn’t see the expression on his face. Helen then turned to me, her tone instantly shifting to a soothing, dismissive maternal coo. “Oh, Donna, sweetheart, you shouldn’t throw around words like ‘divorce.’ A husband and wife are supposed to weather the storms together. Divorce is a terrible thing.” I didn’t bother responding to her. Whenever Zack and I had a disagreement, this was always her refrain. In the past, under the guise of wanting what was best for me, she had constantly tried to keep me trapped in my quiet misery. She would lecture me on how difficult life was for divorced women, how society looked down on them, how a woman without a husband was like discarded trash. But this time, Zack had failed to perform the most basic duty of a father. My mind was made up. The silence in the room was suffocating, broken only by Helen’s continued muttering. I didn’t say another word. Some things are better executed than discussed. Besides, the signs of Zack’s emotional drift had been there for a long time. Take the potted plants on the balcony, for instance. Recently, I had noticed cigarette butts buried in the soil. That balcony garden was something we had designed together, a space he used to cherish more than anyone. As for smoking, he had quit years ago. The moment we decided to start trying for a baby, he had quit cold turkey. It hadn’t been easy. He had gone through intense cravings and mood swings. Even Helen had protested at the time. “He’s under so much pressure at work, Donna. He should phase it out slowly, not just stop all at once.” But Zack had been stubborn. He refused to give himself any leeway. “If I can’t even master my own impulses for the sake of my child,” he had told me, “how can I call myself a father?” To prove his commitment, he had even asked me to hide packs of cigarettes around the house to test him, swearing he wouldn’t touch a single one. And once Toby was born, he never picked up a cigarette again. He had kept his word. Until recently. It all started when Amber posted a quote on her social media about how men who smoke look incredibly sophisticated and attractive. Just like that, Zack started smoking again. It was pathetic, really. A grown man, a father, reverting to old vices just to please a young girl’s passing remark. The next morning, after Zack and Helen left the house, I called a locksmith and changed the entry codes. I went into the system and removed their facial recognition data from the security gate. I waited for Zack’s angry call, but it never came. Instead, I received a text that was supposed to sound considerate: “Hey, sorry, but things are incredibly busy at the office today. Please take good care of Toby.” It seemed my return had simply relieved him of his remaining guilt, allowing him to happily set up camp at the office with Amber. I hired a private investigator to look into his daily routine. The report came back a few days later. Zack wasn’t physically cheating. At least, not in the vulgar, caught-in-bed sense of the word. On paper, they were just a very close boss and secretary. But I knew better. Zack found Amber’s company refreshing. She made him feel young and powerful, so he sought out every possible excuse to be near her, to prolong their shared hours. It reminded me of our college days. Studying was exhausting and tedious, but because we wanted to spend every possible second together, we would pretend to study for hours at the library. Our pens would scratch against the paper, our hearts beating to the same rhythm. We didn’t need to touch; the air between us was already thick with quiet intimacy. I closed the file, keeping my emotions locked away. Then, I drove to our company office to handle some administrative work. This firm was something we had built together from the ground up. It had taken years of sweat and tears. Even my recent trip had been to secure a major partnership that would elevate us to the next level. I truly hadn’t expected things to unravel like this. After hours of looking over accounts, I walked to the breakroom to get a cup of coffee. As I approached, I heard voices whispering inside. “What is Zack thinking? Why is he dumping all these random people into our department? And Amber, too—she should at least vet her own relatives before putting them in a core team. We’re the ones picking up the slack, and we’re exhausted.” I paused, listening closely. I immediately called the HR manager into my office and asked for an explanation. She hesitated, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “Well… Zack brought in a few new hires this month. A lot of the team leaders have been complaining, but Zack specifically asked me to keep it quiet from you.” My fingers tightened around my coffee mug. Zack had broken his own golden rule. In the past, he had detested nepotism more than anything. He had once been passed over for a well-deserved promotion at his old firm because the CEO’s nephew wanted the job. In his rage, he had quit and decided to start his own company. “Donna,” he had told me back then, “one day, I will build a company where merit is the only currency. No handouts, no family favors. Just pure talent.” A few years ago, a distant cousin of mine had applied for a position at our firm through the standard hiring process. Her performance was stellar, and her metrics were consistently at the top of her department. But the moment Zack found out we shared a distant family tie, he had drafted her termination letter without a second thought. “Donna, I trust you, and I trust her,” he had argued when I confronted him. “I know she didn’t mean anything by it, and she probably didn’t even realize you were the co-founder. But once people find out, it sets a dangerous precedent. I don’t want our company to become another boys’ club where family connections trump hard work. Terminating her now is the cleanest way.” I had looked at him in disbelief. “Just because she shares a fraction of my DNA, she loses her job? Zack, she’s a distant cousin I barely see. There’s no conflict of interest here.” But Zack had refused to back down. “I can’t tolerate even the appearance of it, Donna. Please, try to understand me.” In the end, I had yielded. But now, only a few years later, Zack had forgotten the very foundation of his own principles. To please Amber, he had hired almost her entire extended family. From her uncles to her younger cousins, they had all been placed in key roles across various departments. Most of them lacked the basic qualifications, and their incompetence had already caused several major operational errors—errors that Zack had quietly covered up. No wonder several of our most dedicated, long-term employees had handed in their resignations recently. I wondered if Zack looked at those departing veterans and felt even a flicker of shame. He had built this company to give young, hardworking talent a fair shot. Now, he was the one pulling the ladder up. I looked at the HR manager. “I want a complete list of every employee hired under Zack’s personal recommendation this month. Draft their termination letters immediately. Tell them it’s my directive. If they have a problem, they can come directly to me.” The HR manager looked worried. “But Donna… how am I going to explain this to Zack? He’s going to be furious.” It was clear she had been put through the wringer trying to manage these unqualified hires and appease the frustrated staff. I took the list from her hands. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle Zack.” The termination notices hadn’t been sent out for more than an hour before Zack stormed into my office. His face was flushed with anger. “Donna! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I leaned back in my chair, shrug shrugged. “Just doing some basic housekeeping. I fired a few unqualified employees. I must have been gone too long on my trip, because I don’t remember when our performance standards dropped this low. I’ve never been a fan of cutthroat competition, but some of these new hires are doing absolutely nothing.” Seeing that I had hard data and performance reports laid out on my desk, Zack’s aggressive stance softened slightly. He took a breath, trying to sound reasonable. “It’s not what you think. They were never meant to be permanent fixtures. They’re just transitioning. Amber’s family is going through a really tough financial crisis right now, and this was the only way I could help her out.” I stared at him, keeping my expression entirely blank. Zack sighed, rubbing his temples. “I haven’t forgotten my own rules, Donna. This is a temporary, exceptional circumstance. I won’t let them interfere with the core business or take credit for other people’s work. Just give me two months, and I’ll personally transition them out.” I actually let out a dry laugh. He sounded so incredibly self-righteous. Allowing unqualified people to draw high salaries while doing nothing was already a slap in the face to every employee who actually worked for their paycheck. You didn’t need to actively steal credit to demoralize a team. But Zack would always find a way to justify his actions when it came to Amber. We were no longer naive teenagers; we shouldn’t be playing these childish games. While I remained silent, Zack’s phone buzzed. He glanced down at the screen, and his defensive anger flared up again. “You can’t interfere with this, Donna. I don’t care what you do in two months, but right now, these terminations are not happening.” I looked him dead in the eye. “And what if I insist? Zack, we built this company together. My name is on the charter.” The remaining guilt in Zack’s eyes evaporated, replaced by a cold, calculating look. “Donna, we didn’t start this business to become heartless monsters. A company has a social responsibility. I am not going to stand by and watch Amber’s family collapse under a financial crisis.” To protect her, he was willing to go this far. I remained entirely calm. “And what exactly are you going to do to stop me, Zack? I will not have these people in my company.” Zack stared at me, a slow, unpleasant smile creeping onto his face. “Have you forgotten about your R&D team? The new market research and proprietary data you’ve been working on for the transition? I hold the core encryption keys to those servers.” I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper. “Do you even hear yourself, Zack? This company is our life’s work. You’re willing to jeopardize our entire future, sabotage our biggest project, all for a few of your secretary’s relatives? If you want to marry her, just say so.” Zack shook his head quickly. “Amber and I don’t have that kind of relationship. And honestly, I never supported your transition plan anyway. If this project falls through, we can just rebuild.” So, he wanted to break my spirit. He wanted to force me out of the company we built together. Memories of the early days of our startup—sleeping on office floors, eating instant noodles, sharing a single desk—flashed through my mind. What a waste of my youth. Some people are just rotten to the core. Zack thought he had me backed into a corner. “I didn’t want to play this card, Donna. I told you, they’re only temporary. There’s no need to make a scene right now.” Before I could answer, the office door burst open. Amber ran in, tears streaming down her face, looking utterly devastated. “Zack, please… I don’t want to cause any trouble between you and Donna. It’s fine, really. They can leave.” The two of them exchanged a look of pure, dramatic devotion. Amber looked miserable, but her eyes held the glint of a victor. She was young, and her smugness was poorly hidden behind her tears. I found the whole display hilarious. I stood up, walked over, and slapped Zack hard across the face. “Do whatever the hell you want,” I said, my voice ringing clearly in the quiet office. “But remember this: I have resources outside of this company.” I had spent years helping him build his dream from nothing, but he seemed to have forgotten who I was. My family was not without influence. A single failed project wouldn’t break me. If this company went under, Zack would lose everything. I, on the other hand, would be just fine. I picked up my phone and dialed my project manager. “Pack up the servers and tell the team to go home,” I said. “Your bonuses will be paid in full. We’re moving to a new office next week.”
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