Morning light filled our bedroom as I buttoned my shirt, watching Ethan adjust his tie. After five years, his smile still warmed me. “Happy anniversary!” I said, wrapping my arms around him. “Can we celebrate tonight?” He glanced at his watch. “Client meeting. Maybe this weekend?” I hid my disappointment. “Sure.” He grabbed his briefcase for another “client dinner” and left. Our penthouse, bought with profits from my company, Wildflower Boutique, felt empty. From a small online store, it had grown into a multi-million-dollar brand, my pride and joy.
Megan, my assistant, texted about traffic, so I decided to bring Ethan coffee at the office. The halls were silent, but a woman’s giggle stopped me near his door. Through the blinds, I saw Megan on his desk, Ethan kissing her, her hands in his hair. My coffee cups fell, but I was numb. I left, their betrayal seared into me: her lipstick, his ring, our photo hidden. In my car, I called Jack, my lawyer friend. “I need you for a divorce and a business plan,” I said. He agreed to meet immediately, and I drove off, anger replacing shock.
At Jack’s, I shared how Ethan became Wildflower’s co-owner for “investor appeal.” Months ago, his secretive texts had prompted me to start a new company quietly. “He’s in for a surprise,” Jack said. That evening, I gave Ethan divorce papers. “I saw you with Megan,” I said, slicing onions. He demanded Wildflower. I handed him transfer papers. “It’s yours,” I said. “No fight?” he asked, suspicious. “I’m done,” I replied. He signed, thinking he’d outsmarted me. At the signing, his lawyer thought I’d lost, but I handed Ethan an empty box with a note: “This is your reward.”
Three months later, my new company flourished in a airy warehouse. Lisa, who’d left Wildflower after Ethan fired her, joined me, along with top staff. Marcus, a key buyer, switched to us, loving our designs. He mentioned Wildflower’s supplier issues and IRS probe. Lisa had left records of Ethan’s negligence. Jack texted: the IRS froze Wildflower’s accounts, and Ethan was crumbling. Six months later, I saw him at a coffee shop, defeated. “You planned this,” he said. “I told you to stop cutting corners,” I replied. “You’ve changed,” he said. “No, you never knew me,” I said, joining Lisa. Ethan took my business, but I built a better one, proving my worth was unstoppable.
