"Tabitha, can we discuss something?" Asher asked, his voice tentative. "Crystal's landlord evicted her after a dispute. She's got nowhere to go. Could she stay here, just temporarily?"

The absurdity of his request hit like a slap. I stared at him, incredulous. "You think that's appropriate?"

"Why not?" he muttered, impatience flaring. "When did you get so small-minded? I've told you a hundred times. Crystal is in the past. You're my only priority."

He leaned closer, insistent. "She is alone out there. Helping her is just decency. You know I'd never betray you."

His assurances rang hollow. He had betrayed me the moment he signed our home over to her.

"Asher," I said, each syllable sharp, "do you think I'm some doormat? That you can trample me after all I've endured with you?"

His jaw clenched, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Finally, he sighed, rubbing his temples. "You're overreacting. She is just a friend in need. It's settled. I'm picking her up."

He stormed out, the door slamming behind him.

Tears stung my eyes, hot and unwanted, but I forced them back. Crying over a man who'd become a stranger wasn't worth it.

My phone buzzed, pulling me from the spiral. It was Asher's mother, Margaret Terrell.

"Tabitha, it's the weekend," she said warmly. "Come over for dinner tomorrow."

She had always treated me like family. Refusing her felt wrong.

"Okay. We'll be there," I said, forcing a smile into my voice.

Hanging up, I stared out the window at the twilight sky. A chill settled in my bones, colder than the evening air.

The next day, I drove alone to the Terrell Mansion.

The house had been lost to bankruptcy years ago. When Asher rebuilt his fortune, he'd ached to reclaim this childhood home, but the new owner refused every offer.

I'd taken it upon myself to win it back, visiting week after week with fine gifts.

After three exhausting months, I finally charmed the old man with persistence and sincerity. He sold it back at the original price.

Margaret greeted me, her smile fading when she saw I was alone. "Where's Asher? Buried in work again?"

"Emergency meeting," I lied. "He'll come later."

She ushered me in and led me to sit on the sofa. She took my hand and sighed, "Don't cover for him, dear. I've heard about his recent antics."

My pulse quickened, but I stayed silent, unsure how much she knew.

"Is he tangled up with Crystal again?" she asked. "I warned him years ago that she was trouble. Told him to stay away."

I bowed my head, the weight of her words pressing down.

She squeezed my hand. "You've suffered too much for him. You're the only daughter-in-law we'll ever accept. If he crosses a line, I'll deal with him."

I forced a smile. "It's okay, really."

The front door burst open, and Asher strode in, his face stormy. "Are you coming here to rat me out to Mom?"

Margaret snatched a decorative pillow and hurled it at him. "You ungrateful boy! Tabitha wouldn't stoop to that. If she'd said one word against you, you'd be banned from this house."

"Then how do you know about Crystal?" he shot back, yanking his tie free.

"Do I need a report?" Margaret scoffed. "You've made her your personal secretary, flaunting your mess for the whole company to see. I'm not blind."

I swallowed a bitter smile, the irony cutting deep.

Days earlier, Asher had wasted no time moving Crystal into our home.

Then he placed her in the company, right by his side. When I confronted him, he brushed it off with a flimsy excuse. "She's new to the corporate world. I'm just helping her get up to speed."

Now, at the family dinner, his face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and defiance. He waved off further argument. "Crystal is outside with an urgent file. I'll bring her in."

He didn't wait for objections, striding to the door and flinging it open.

Crystal glided in behind him, her flowing white sundress accentuating her delicate frame. Her wide eyes darted nervously to play the part of a fragile damsel.

Asher stepped in front of her. "Ease up, Mom. She's here for work. Don't scare her with that look."

I remained silent, watching with cold eyes.

"This is a family gathering. Maybe I should leave," Crystal murmured, but not moving an inch.

"You've earned a break," Asher insisted, guiding her to the chair beside him. "Stay for dinner."

That was my seat.

The room grew heavy with tension. Margaret's gaze pierced Crystal's fragile act, her lips curling. "Save the performance, dear. We're all women here."

She set her fork down with a deliberate clink. "Your intentions are transparent."

Crystal's face paled, her eyes glistening with practiced tears. "Mrs. Terrell, I-I don't know what you mean."

"Don't play dumb," Margaret snorted. "Back in college, when Asher brought you here, your eyes were glued to every antique. When you learned about our company, greed was all over your face."

Crystal trembled, her façade cracking.

"Enough!" Asher slammed the table, glaring at Margaret. "After all these years, you're still doing this? It's not about my happiness. It's about your control over my life. You broke us up and pushed her into depression. She's finally healing, and you attack her?"

"Control?" Margaret's voice shook with fury. "If I wanted control, I'd have kept Tabitha from suffering with you during bankruptcy. Who do you think pulled you from that abyss?"

"I haven't forgotten that!" Asher roared. "I'll honor her sacrifice forever. Helping Crystal doesn't cancel that out."

He grabbed Crystal's hand and led her to leave.

Margaret shouted after him, "Where are you going?"

"Any place but here!" he shouted back, leaving in a huff.

From start to finish, his eyes never met mine. Nor did he ask me to go with him.

"Let him go. He's a fool." Margaret's chest heaved with anger. "Stay here for the night."

I shook my head, rising from my chair. "It's fine. I need to go home."

This was between Asher and me. I couldn't let her feud with him over my pain.

In the courtyard, the car idled. He leaned against the hood, scrolling his phone with furrowed brows.

Clearly, he hadn't entirely forgotten me. He was waiting, albeit grudgingly.

I approached, my shadow stretching long and solitary under the streetlamps. He looked up, his scowl deepening. "Took you long enough. Get in."

He yanked open the driver's door and slid behind the wheel. I reached for the passenger door when a soft moan from the back seat stopped me.

"It hurts so much. I can't breathe," Crystal grunted.

Asher's irritation vanished, replaced by panic. He leaned back. "What's wrong?"

"I think it's my peanut allergy," she choked out.

Asher turned around, glaring at me. "You knew about her allergy. Why didn't you warn the kitchen?"

I was stunned by the absurdity.

He had never told me anything, and it wasn't my responsibility to manage Margaret's menu for an uninvited guest. Furthermore, the food had been served when we arrived.

"I didn't know," I said, my voice cold as ice.

"That's bullshit!" he yelled. "You did this on purpose. Are you so jealous?"

A hollow laugh escaped me. "So what? You expect me to take responsibility for her?"

"I'll let it slide this time," he said through gritted teeth. "But she's living with us. Be careful when you cook, no more mistakes."

He expected me to cater to his ex. The gall was staggering.

Before I could respond, Crystal let out another pained whimper. In an instant, Asher's focus snapped back to her.

"Hang on! I'm taking you to the hospital." He revved the engine, then barked at me, "Go."

I held his gaze. "You expect me to walk home?"

The estate sat in a remote, exclusive suburb. At night, public transport was nonexistent, and taxis were a rare sight.

He slammed the dashboard. "The hospital is in the opposite direction, and Crystal is in danger. I can't detour to drop you off. Figure it out."

He slammed on the gas, and the car darted out, leaving me in a cloud of exhaust.

I stood alone on the empty road, the late wind biting my skin. He had said that so casually, as if my sacrifices all those years were an afterthought.

Pulling out my phone, I dialed his driver. "Mike, can you pick me up at the Terrell Mansion?"

Ten minutes later, the car pulled up. Mike poked his head out and blinked. "Ma'am, isn't Mr. Terrell with you? Thought you two were dining together."

I pulled open the car door and slid in. "He left early on an urgent call."

Out of his sight, I smiled bitterly.

Back home, I'd barely kicked off my shoes when my phone pinged with a message.

I checked it out, and my pupils contracted.

A photo filled the screen, showing Asher, shirtless on rumpled hotel sheets. His bronzed skin was marred by fresh hickeys trailing from his neck to his chest.

He slept soundly, oblivious to the camera.

Below was a taunting caption: [Asher is with me tonight. Says he could finally relax.]

The allergy was a lie, a ruse for their hotel rendezvous. Asher had crossed every line.

I screenshotted the evidence and sent it to my lawyer, then forwarded it to Asher.

[The house isn't enough? You have to offer yourself to her?]

He burst through the door soon after, his eyes darting with guilt. "It's not what it looks like. Crystal and I..."

"Shut up!" I snapped, my voice cutting through his excuses like a blade.

He reached for me. "Babe, don't be upset. Nothing happened, I swear."

I yanked my arm free, disgust surging through me, and stormed to the study where I opened a drawer, pulled out a thick binder, and thrust it at him. "Look at these, Asher."

My voice trembled with rage. "Remember when your family fell apart? I was there, in that miserable basement, eating scraps. I sold every piece of jewelry to pay off your millions. I carried you home drunk, stood up to your mocking friends. Where was Crystal then? Now you're back on top, with her on your arm, and I'm the discarded wife?"

Tears choked my words as I flung the papers at him. "How will you repay me for this?"