With Valentine's Day fast approaching, I suggested to my wife, Francine Watson, that we take a trip to the beach.

She shot me down, citing her busy work schedule.

A wave of disappointment hit me. I didn't expect that, the very next day, when I walked into the office, I'd be handed an expensive luxury watch.

And two tickets to the Maldives.

My colleagues immediately took notice.

"Mr. Rutherford, the Chairman really spoils you," one of them whispered with a grin. "Miss Watson is beautiful, wealthy, and so understanding. Where else could you find a wife like that?"

A part of me swelled with pride.

But when I picked up the tickets, that pride quickly faded.

One ticket was for Francine.

But the other ticket? It wasn't mine.

It was for Evander 'Evan' Graves, my wife's newly hired male assistant.

——

I froze. The warmth that had filled me evaporated instantly.

I lost all interest in my work. I turned away from my desk and walked out.

By the time I reached the CEO's office, the last thing I expected to find was Francine standing with Evan.

Evan was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, one hand casually resting on her waist.

In front of them stood a photographer, his camera flashing nonstop.

I clenched my jaw and pushed open the door.

Francine's smile froze when she saw me.

Evan's hand jerked away from her waist, almost as if struck by an electric shock.

The silence between us felt suffocating.

My chest tightened, a heaviness settling in.

"Carson? What are you doing here?" Francine asked, hurrying toward me.

I looked straight at her. "What are you two doing?"

Francine's eyes flickered for a second, and then she quickly masked it with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"We're taking promotional photos for the new quarter," she replied, her voice casual. "Evan looks great, so I asked him to help out."

Francine then turned to the others in the room, giving them a professional smile. "That's all for today. Thank you, everyone."

The crowd quickly dispersed, and only Evan remained standing, still and unmoving.

He adjusted his suit sleeve with a slight air of indifference.

I ignored the guilt that flashed in Francine's eyes and pulled out the tickets.

"What's the deal with these two tickets?" I asked, my voice calm, but with an edge to it.

Francine blinked in surprise, then forced a smile.

"Sorry, Carson," she said softly.

"These tickets and the watch were rewards for Evan's outstanding performance last month. I just forgot to change the address when I sent them to you."

I could feel my fingers trembling as I gripped the tickets.

"So, when you told me last night that you were too busy with work to go to the beach with me, you were actually planning to go to the Maldives with him?"

"Carson, what are you talking about?"

Her voice suddenly rose, drawing the attention of a few employees who had lingered.

They turned their heads, curiosity written all over their faces.

"I went to the Maldives for a business trip, not for fun. And definitely not to be with Evan," she snapped. "Can you stop acting so childish?"

I looked at her, noticing how flawless her makeup was and how carefully her hair had been styled. At that moment, I felt a deep sense of unfamiliarity.

"Just a business trip? Do two people really need to go together to a resort for a business meeting?"

"Mr. Rutherford," Evan finally spoke, stepping forward and giving a slight bow.

"You've misunderstood Miss Watson," he continued, his voice smooth and polite as he met my eyes directly. "The meeting with AquaWave Corporation was arranged by their chairman, specifically to take place in the Maldives. Miss Watson has been preparing the materials for this deal for weeks. She's been working overtime for the past two weeks to make sure everything is perfect."

He maintained a neutral expression, but there was a faint, almost imperceptible hint of pity in his gaze.

"If this situation has upset you," Evan added, "I'm happy to give you the tickets instead. After all, your marriage is more important."

"Evan!" Francine snapped, her voice anxious. "That's your reward. Why should you give it to him?"

She turned back to me, her eyes flashing with anger. "Carson, you've really disappointed me. Do you know why I work late every night? It's for our future!"

"Do you not trust me at all?"

I glanced at Francine, the frustration building in my chest. "Can you explain to me what Evan has done for the company to deserve a million-dollar watch as a reward?"

Her brow furrowed, and her voice sharpened with impatience. "This was a decision made by senior management. It has nothing to do with you."

"Nothing to do with me?" I chuckled bitterly, the anger rising inside me. "You give another man a million-dollar watch, book him a trip to the Maldives, and I'm just supposed to stay quiet about it? As your husband, don't I have the right to question this?"

Francine took a deep breath, clearly trying to keep her composure. "Carson, can you stop making a scene? Evan closed three major deals last month. He generated tens of millions of dollars in profits for the company. What's wrong with rewarding him?"

"Rewarding him is fine, but why the Maldives? Why couple watches then?" I pointed at her wrist, where the same watch Evan had gotten was now adorning her. "I checked online. This is a limited-edition couple's watch, right? Don't tell me this is just a coincidence."

Francine's gaze flickered for a brief moment before she regained her composure.

"God, Carson! When did you become so paranoid? The company bought the watch, and our partners arranged the tickets. You're the one making this dirty!"

"Dirty?" I clenched my teeth. "Francine, I'm not blind or deaf. Do you really think I don't hear the rumors going around the office?"

Her expression shifted instantly. "What rumors?"

"You and Evan..." I didn't finish my sentence, but she immediately cut me off.

"Enough! Carson, I work hard every day, and this is how you treat me? If you don't trust me, there's nothing left to discuss," she snapped. "You don't have to wait for me for dinner tonight. I'm working overtime with a client."

With that, Francine turned and walked out. Evan stood off to the side, a faint, knowing smile on his lips.

...

Back home, I sat alone on the balcony, smoking one cigarette after another.

My marriage was once everything to me. It was happy and fulfilling. But ever since Evan joined the company, everything has changed.

Initially, it was limited to professional interactions between them. But soon, it turned into something constant over time, always together, hand in hand.

They even traveled for business together.

Then, her phone's password changed.

When I heard the rumors in the office back then, I tried to remind Francine gently, "Men and women should maintain some distance. You two are getting too close. It might lead to misunderstandings."

Francine laughed it off, dismissing my concerns with a wave. "Evan's just my assistant. Can't you stop being so petty?"

But reality was different.

Last month, after a company team-building trip, she returned home slightly tipsy. When Evan helped her out of the car, his hand lingered on her waist—much longer than necessary.

I stepped forward to help her, but Evan smiled and said, "Miss Watson can't handle her alcohol, Mr. Rutherford. You'll need to take better care of her from now on."

That tone, like he was the one closest to her.

And last week, I saw a message pop up on my wife's phone.

[Babe, see you at the usual spot tonight.]

I casually inquired, "Who's that?"

Francine brushed it off with a smile, replying, "Just my close friend, Lia."

...

Amid the swirling smoke, I stared at my phone screen.

Evan had just updated his social media.

It was a photo of the night view taken at a high-end restaurant.

The photo didn't include him or Francine.

Only two glasses of red wine and a pair of intertwined hands.

One of the wrists was adorned with the same watch that had been mistakenly sent to me today.

[Your company is worth more than all the beauty in the world.]

My stomach turned as I looked at the image.

It wasn't until the early morning hours that Francine finally arrived home.

The sound of her high heels tapping on the floor echoed through the quiet living room. I stayed seated on the sofa, not moving to greet her like I usually did, nor offering her any hangover tea or a warm towel.

Francine stumbled slightly, clearly not used to my cold indifference. Her brow furrowed, and there was a hint of frustration in her voice.

"What's wrong with you? You know I'm drunk, and you can't even help me?"

I didn't answer, just silently watched her. Her makeup was still flawless, but the smell of smoke and alcohol clung to her body and hair.

And then, there was the cologne, the unmistakable scent of Evan's cologne—the one he always wore.

I couldn't help but think back to the past. I loved my wife with all my heart and cared for her deeply. I chased her for five long years before finally winning her heart.

Back then, her smile was pure, and her eyes were filled only with me.

For her, I gave up so much.

I never once regretted it, as long as I was by her side.

Until tonight...

Suddenly, her phone lit up, the bright light cutting through the room's silence.

[Are you home? I had a great time today. Good night.]

What hit me even harder were the couple's profile pictures they had chosen together: a pink butterfly paired with a blue one, silently revealing what I had refused to acknowledge.

My heart sank completely.

Francine noticed my gaze and quickly turned the screen off, but it was already too late.

The air in the room felt thick, almost frozen for a few seconds.

Then, she tried to explain, her voice faltering.

"It's just work-related..."

I couldn't hold it in anymore as I cut her off.

"Francine, let's get a divorce."

I spoke the words calmly, as if I were standing outside of myself.

She froze, clearly unable to comprehend what I'd just said. "What did you say?"

I reiterated, "I said, let's get a divorce."

Then, I stood up, the weight of it all sinking in. "Francine, it's over."

Instantly, her face drained of color.

"Carson, listen to me. It's not what you think."

I looked at her, cold as ice. "So, what is it then? Did Evan's hand accidentally slip onto your waist? Did you both unintentionally pick matching couple profile pictures? Or was the Maldives ticket something you accidentally booked?"

Francine's gaze flickered briefly before turning to anger. "Why are you pushing me like this? I work so hard every day. Can't you be a little more understanding? You weren't like this before! Now, you want a divorce over two plane tickets?"

I rubbed my temples tiredly, a deep sigh escaping me. "Yes, divorce. I'll move out tomorrow and contact a lawyer to draft the divorce agreement."

With that, I turned and walked into the guest room, slamming the door behind me.

I didn't sleep a wink that night.

The first time I met Francine was at a university debate competition. She wore a simple white shirt, had her ponytail high, spoke sharply, and her gaze was bright.

I sat in the audience, my heart pounding in my chest.

Right there, I fell for Francine instantly.

After that, I chased her for five long years. For her, I chose to give up the family business and stay in the country, joining her father's company after graduation.

From campus to the workplace, from being unnoticed to becoming a part of her life.

On the day I proposed, I kneeled by the sea. The sound of the waves drowned out my trembling voice, but she smiled and nodded in response.

What a pity! The sweeter the memories, the sharper the reality.

Sighing deeply, I picked up my phone and saw a number I hadn't called in a while.

I sent a message:

[Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll be back next week.]

It was daytime on the other side of the world, and my father, Hector, replied almost instantly:

[Really? That's great!]