Chapter 1

"Let' s get a divorce, Victoria."

This was the ninety-ninth time I had said those words to my wife. It was our fifth wedding anniversary, and the sterile, white expanse of our penthouse apartment felt colder than ever.

Victoria didn't even look up from the tablet in her hands, her thumb flicking casually through real estate analytics. Her voice was flat, bored, as if I' d just commented on the weather.

"Not today, Alex. I' m busy."

The imbalance in our marriage was a physical weight. I felt it in my chest every morning, a dull pressure that never went away. For five years, I had been the talented but suppressed architect, a quiet fixture in the grand life of Victoria Hayes, the ruthless real estate developer. I sought her validation, her love, and in return, I received indifference.

"I' m serious this time," I said, my voice barely a whisper in the cavernous room.

She finally lowered her tablet, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow raising a fraction of an inch. She looked at me, but her eyes were dismissive, like she was examining a piece of furniture that had been moved slightly out of place.

"Don' t be dramatic, Alex. It' s just a phase."

Then she delivered the line that would shatter the last piece of my hope.

"Besides, I can' t leave you right now. I' ve been poisoned."

I stared at her, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"On my business trip to Thailand," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "I was hit with a 'love charm.' It' s a very potent local thing. It makes me obsessed with the first person I see every morning."

She paused, a cruel smirk playing on her lips.

"And that person is my assistant, Ryan. He' s the only one who can cure me."

The absurdity of the excuse was a slap in the face. It was a bizarre, almost laughable justification for her infidelity, a way to frame her affair as an illness and my pain as an inconvenience. She was not just cheating on me; she was mocking me with it.

"So you see," she continued, standing up and smoothing down her silk dress, "I need to be with him to get better. It' s for our marriage, really. You should understand."

She walked over to the coffee table and picked up a small, elegant box.

"Happy anniversary."

She slid it across the table to me. Inside was a luxury watch, absurdly expensive, with a heavy gold band.

"It symbolizes loyalty," she said without a trace of irony. "Now, I need you to do something for me. Ryan is moving in for a while, for my treatment. It would be best if you moved out temporarily. Just until this whole thing blows over. It' s too stressful for me to have you both here."

I looked at the watch, then back at her face. The woman I married was gone, replaced by this cold, manipulative stranger. My love had been a resource for her to exploit, my feelings a toy for her to break.

For years, I had swallowed her casual cruelty. I remembered presenting her with a design for a community center, a project I poured my soul into. She' d glanced at it for a second before tossing it aside. "It's cute, Alex. But it lacks ambition. You design buildings; I build empires. Try to keep up." Her words had chipped away at my self-worth until only a hollow shell remained.

Quietly, I picked up the watch. I felt its weight in my hand. Her emotional abuse, her blatant infidelity-it was all condensed into this one, insane moment.

"Okay," I said.

My voice was calm, so calm it surprised even me. On the surface, I was the compliant husband, agreeing to be discarded. But inside, a switch had flipped. This wasn't a temporary move. This was the end. I was finally, truly, leaving her.

"Good," she said, already turning away, her attention back on her phone. She was already messaging him. "Pack a bag. Ryan will be here in an hour."

Just then, her phone rang. She answered it with a sharp, annoyed tone.

"What is it?"

I could hear the muffled sound of Ryan' s voice on the other end. Her expression soured.

"What do you mean you' re stuck in traffic? I told you to leave an hour ago! Is it that hard to follow a simple instruction?" She paced the room, her voice rising. "This is exactly the kind of incompetence I don' t need right now. It must be Alex' s negativity affecting my recovery. You need to get here, now!"

She hung up and glared at me, as if the downtown traffic was my personal fault.

"See what you do? You upset the balance of things."

She then pointed toward the kitchen.

"While I' m waiting, make some coffee. The special beans, the ones from Colombia. Ryan loves them."

I stood there for a moment, the order hanging in the air. I was being asked to prepare a welcome for the man who was replacing me in my own home, with coffee I had bought for our special occasions. The humiliation was so profound it almost felt unreal.

I walked into the kitchen, my movements robotic. I ground the beans, the noise filling the silent apartment. When Ryan finally arrived, I was forced to watch as Victoria greeted him with a possessive kiss, pulling him onto the sofa. I brought the coffee out on a tray, placing it on the table in front of them.

"Thank you, Alex," Victoria said, not looking at me. She was already stroking Ryan' s arm. "You can go now."

As I walked toward the bedroom to pack my bag, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an email. I pulled it out, my hands trembling slightly.

It was from Chloe, a former colleague from university. I hadn' t spoken to her in years.

The subject line read: An Opportunity.

I opened it.

"Hey Alex, it' s Chloe. Remember that Chief Architect position I told you about at my firm in Northwood? It just opened up. I thought of you immediately. You should apply. It would be great to work with you again."

I read the message twice. Northwood was a thousand miles away. A new city. A new firm. A new life.

It was a sign. A way out.

In that moment, standing in the hallway of the life I was about to leave, with the sound of my wife and her lover laughing in the other room, I felt the first flicker of hope I had felt in five years.