Lynch’s POV

I looked at the gift box and tore it open.

Inside was a tie—plain, thin, barely there.

Just then, my phone lit up with an ad from the same brand advertising the same tie.

Apparently, this cheap thing was a freebie from a Valentine’s Day gift set.

I nearly laughed—the kind of laugh that scrapes your throat when you realize just how little you matter.

Heddy’s expression stiffened. She tried to cover it up, her voice suddenly careful.

“You’ve always liked low-key stuff. I went through a dozen stores to find one like this. Don’t make a fuss over this, Lynch.”

I didn’t respond.

Just then, the alarm on my phone went off. I started swallowing my pills—methodical, one after the other.

Heddy’s face changed immediately. She rushed over and snatched the bottle from me.

“What are you doing? You know you can’t take meds like this before the surgery!”

Maybe it was the quiet and unreadable look on my face, and for once, her voice dropped.

She tossed the box aside.

“Fine, fine, if you don’t like the gift, throw it away. I’ll get you another one, okay?” She sighed. “Lynch, we agreed to start preparing for a baby. You can’t throw your health away.”

I laid the divorce papers flat on the table between us.

“They’re done. Sign when you’ve got time,” I said. Before I forgot, I added, “And stop dragging me into your assistant’s life. If he means that much to you, hire a maid or a cook to take care of him.”

Heddy had more on her plate than most. I no longer expected her to draft legal papers herself, so I handled them myself.

As soon as she read the top page, her face fell, and she bolted up.

“Divorce?! Are you out of your mind? Just because I looked at Robbie during the press conference?

“Damn it, Lynch! He’s just my assistant! You were the one who brought him into the company, remember? If something were going on between us, it would’ve happened long ago. Why now? Stop being so damn ridiculous!”

Her eyes fell on my face. Then she sighed, like she was giving up.

“I get it. You’re sick, and it’s messing with your mood. I’ve been doing my best to take care of you, but there’s a line, Lynch. There’s a line.”

Her heels sank into the edge of the carpet, kicking up dust.

She’s always leaving a mark, never watching where she stepped.

Old instinct made me want to say something—remind her.

But I caught myself, swallowed the words, and laughed under my breath.

She’s always been like this, never caring about my effort. She never acknowledged what I gave up for her.

But now, we’re done. Whatever she does—none of it matters anymore.

I looked up, meeting her eyes. My voice was steady.

“Yeah. I’m divorcing you because of that look. Isn’t that reason enough?” I replied. “Heddy, before we got married, I told you—I don’t tolerate even the smallest betrayal.

“And the woman I married? She’s not standing in front of me now. So, yeah. We’re done.”

She drew in a sharp breath. Her temper started to rise.

But I cut her off.

“And the surgery? Canceled. Don’t worry—I know better. I’m not going to put you in the position of having to choose between me and him.

“I’m not fighting him for your scraps or your shares either.

“The return address is on the envelope. Sign it when you’ve got the time. Send it back.”

With that, I turned and walked out, not even glancing at her frozen figure.

Behind me, her voice cracked and tore through the room.

“Lynch! If you walk out that door, don’t bother coming back!”

A cold smirk tugged at my lips.

That line had shackled me for ten years.

Ten years of biting my tongue. Ten years of apologies I never owed.

In return, there was no understanding, only her getting more and more demanding.

She thought I’d turn around and say sorry like always.

But this time, my steps only quickened.

Don’t come back? That’s the first thing she’s said that makes sense.

Divorcing over a look she gave her assistant might sound crazy.

But I know what was behind that look. It wasn’t just a glance. It was intimacy—something we hadn’t shared in years.

And once, not so long ago, that look belonged to me.

Back when I first met Heddy, I was just a student, still clawing my way up from nothing.

Lynch’s POV

I was bullied by classmates and humiliated by teachers.

I was an outcast while Heddy was the new girl—refined, striking.

The moment she arrived, every pair of eyes turned her way.

Someone warned her to stay away from me, saying I was the bastard son of a homewrecker and was born filthy.

Heddy didn’t say a word. But her gaze on me grew deeper and more unreadable.

When it came time to switch seats, no one wanted to sit with me. They dragged my desk over by the trash cans.

Only Heddy stepped forward, saying she wanted to sit with me.

I could feel her edging closer—subtle but unmistakable.

But I was too used to keeping my head down and too used to thinking I didn’t deserve it.

Whenever she moved toward me, I took a step back.

Every time we “accidentally” ran into each other, I always ended up fleeing in embarrassment.

I never imagined she’d chase me all the way to my house.

That day, my father broke my leg. I took a medical leave from school.

Heddy showed up at my door with my homework—only to walk right into the middle of one of my parents’ screaming matches.

My dad drained her savings, maxed out credit cards in her name, and used her inheritance.

Then, once he’d taken everything, he handed her divorce papers and told her to walk away with nothing.

To break her, he started flaunting his mistress—dinner dates, parties, photos online.

And to top it off, he spun the story to make my mom look like the villain, saying she ruined the marriage, calling her the mistress.

But the real other mistress just lived downstairs.

Every time we passed her place, my father would stop and look long and hard in her direction.

And every time he did, I knew what was waiting for me at home.

The beatings came right after.

One night, my mother ran out into a storm—in slippers, clutching the medicine I needed.

But she died under the wheels of a truck.

My father didn’t come home that night. The next morning, he walked in with the mistress, grinning like nothing happened.

Because I was home, they kept their hands off each other—but their eyes spoke loud enough.

And every time I caught my father staring, my skin would crawl until the day I turned eighteen.

That night, he looked at me with the same eyes.

He tried to lock my door, but I smashed a bottle over his head and ran.

On the way out, I ran straight into Heddy. She’d come to bring me homework.

My father chased us into an alley with a butcher’s knife.

The moment before the blade came down on me, Heddy threw herself in front of it.

The cops and ambulance arriving together came a little too late.

Her shoulder was torn open to the bone, but she smiled at me.

“Lynch, you’re safe now.”

Then she passed out.

I stayed by her side all night, refusing to sleep a second.

When she woke up, we were together, like it was always meant to be.

I stroked the bandages on her shoulder with tears in my eyes.

“You really love me. I can see it,” I whispered. “I can read someone’s heart in their eyes. If yours ever change, I’ll walk away without a word.”

Heddy—eighteen, brave and still recovering—lifted her good arm and rubbed it against my head.

“Silly. Then you’ll never have to leave. Not in this lifetime.”

I knew she didn’t believe me. And neither of us thought those words would come true.

After that night, the bullying at school disappeared. My classmates suddenly treated me with kindness.

Heddy lifted her chin like a proud peacock. “See? I told you—you’ve got something. They just didn’t see it. Stop doubting yourself. As long as I’m here, no one’s ever laying a finger on you again.”

Step by step, she pulled me out of the shadows, teaching me to stop hiding and lift my head and look toward the sun.

A month later, I found her in an alley behind school, chasing down a thug and beating him senseless.

“That’s what you get for messing with Lynch! Got it? Now get lost!”

That was the first time I realized—girls had strength I never imagined.

After that, the memories began to blur; I couldn’t quite remember the way she looked at me back then.

I went back alone… to the apartment where we used to live before the wedding.

Lynch’s POV

I took three days of sick leave.

While I got not a single message from Heddy, the company group chat wouldn’t shut up.

[Robbie’s a shareholder now? Talk about rags to riches—what, she and President Spitzer finally made it official?]

[Do you even need to ask? Haven’t you seen how she always calls him into her office? Just the two of them—what else could be going on?]

[Stop calling her ‘Robbie,’ it’s ‘President Tisch’ now. Want to get yourself fired?]

[What about Manager Lauderdale though? Wasn’t he into President Spitzer, too?]

[Please. Guy can’t even sweet-talk properly. What woman would go for that? This company’s full of hopeless crushes!]

When Heddy and I agreed to keep our marriage a secret, she said it was to avoid workplace gossip.

‘Now, I see’s just an easy way out for her.’

On the fourth day, I went back to work like nothing had happened.

First thing I did was submit my resignation to HR.

He glanced up in surprise.

“Lynch, you’re resigning? Does President Spitzer know about this? I can’t approve this without her go-ahead,” he said. “Come on, you’re one of the company’s founding members. If you leave, it’s like she’s losing an arm.”

Before he could finish, mocking voices drifted in from outside the door.

“What’s there to approve? He’s just embarrassed to stick around.

“Every project that got signed was thanks to Robbie. If I were the manager, I’d have packed up and left ages ago.

“That deal Robbie just landed? It’s taking the company public. Think Lynch could’ve pulled that off? Calling him a pretty face is generous—he’s a damn liability.”

The projects he’s talking about? I’d poured nights and weekends into those proposals. But every single time, Heddy handed the credit over to Robbie.

I swallowed the bitterness, lifted my chin, and managed to smile.

“You’re right. Which is exactly why I’m resigning. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I said. “I’m sure under Robbie’s leadership, the company’s headed for a brilliant future. With him around, everyone’s paychecks will only get fatter.”

“Who the hell are you trying to be sarcastic with?” someone snapped. “I’ve had enough of you acting like you’re the boss. Now that Robbie’s moving up, you’re finally getting kicked down where you belong.”

One of them looked like he was about to swing at me, but someone else pulled him back.

“Let it go. Not worth it. Can’t do the job, can’t keep the girl, pushing forty and still single—he’ll get what’s coming.”

I ignored all of it and headed for the elevator, my resignation in hand.

As the doors slid shut, I slumped down, feeling drained.

Ten seconds later, I got up again—back to the same sharp, efficient man I’d always been—and marched straight into the CEO’s office.

Robbie was sprawled on Heddy’s couch, munching on a bag of chips.

“Manager Lauderdale—no wait, dude! What brings you here?”

Robbie, as her assistant, was the only person in the company who knew I was her husband.

Heddy said it was to help him manage logistics.

Ten years later, I’ve seen no sign of that help—just endless excuses for him to provoke me.

My eyes drifted over the chip crumbs on the couch. I couldn't help the irony.

Back when I used to visit her office, even sipping coffee was off-limits.

She’d say she didn’t want me dirtying the carpet, or messing up the couch.

Didn’t want me ruining her company’s image.

But now that it’s Robbie? Apparently, none of those rules apply.

Heddy’s face darkened the moment I walked in.

“Do you not know how to knock?” she hissed. “Can't you see I’m busy? Get out, and knock properly.”

Robbie tossed the chip bag to the carpet and rushed to smooth things over.

“Don’t be mad, President Spitzer. He didn’t mean it. He just got a little too eager, that’s all.”