Chapter 3

"Oh, Craig, don' t blame her," Chanel sobbed from the floor, clutching his arm. "She' s just upset. I' m sure she didn' t mean to push me."

Her words were a masterclass in manipulation, painting Dessie as unstable and violent while making herself look forgiving and kind.

A murmur went through the crowd.

"I can' t believe she did that."

"She always seemed so quiet. She must be obsessed with Craig."

Craig helped Chanel to her feet, his arm protectively around her waist. He glared at Dessie. "What is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?"

The accusation, coming from him, was the ultimate betrayal. He knew the truth. He knew she was the victim, and yet he stood there, protecting his co-conspirator and painting Dessie as the aggressor.

Dessie felt a cold wave of despair wash over her. She remembered their wedding night, a small, secret ceremony. He had held her hands and promised, "It will always be you and me, Dessie. No matter what."

Now, he was an accomplice in her public humiliation.

Chanel pressed the advantage. She looked at Craig, her eyes wide and tearful. "Craig, honey, she keeps saying she' s your wife. What is going on?"

Everyone turned to Craig, waiting for his explanation. He looked at Dessie, his eyes filled with resentment, as if this whole embarrassing situation was her fault for not staying quiet.

He took a deep breath. "Dessie and I were colleagues. That' s all. I don' t know why she' s developed this... fixation."

The words were a calculated execution.

"Chanel is my wife," he announced to the room, his voice firm and clear. "We have our marriage license. In fact, we' re hosting a small wedding reception next month to celebrate with everyone."

The announcement sealed Dessie' s fate. It was his word, the manager' s word, against hers. He had documents, a public relationship, a celebration. She had nothing.

Every last shred of hope that he might, on some level, still care for her, vanished. He didn' t just not love her. He didn' t even respect her. He didn' t trust her.

The looks from her colleagues shifted from suspicion to contempt. She was a homewrecker, a liar, a crazy woman.

Craig didn' t stay to enjoy his victory. He began to lead Chanel away, but stopped and turned back to Dessie. His voice was low and menacing.

"You will write a formal letter of apology for your behavior today. And you will post it publicly. If you don' t, I' ll make sure you face the professional consequences."

He left. The crowd dispersed, whispering among themselves. Dessie stood alone, a pariah in her own workplace.

She laughed to herself, a bitter, hollow sound. The man who used to praise her brilliant mind now saw her as nothing more than a hysterical woman to be managed and silenced.

Later that day, she returned to the house she had once called home. It felt alien now. She wasn' t sure why she came back. Maybe a part of her needed one last confrontation, away from prying eyes.

To her surprise, Craig was there. He had cooked dinner. The table was set for two.

"Dessie, you' re home," he said, his tone gentle, as if the scene at the office had never happened.

The hypocrisy was nauseating. He had publicly destroyed her, and now he was playing the role of the caring husband.

"I know today was hard," he began, placing a plate of food in front of her. "I couldn' t say anything at the office. My position is too sensitive right now."

She stared at him, her heart a block of ice.

"This thing with Chanel... it' s a marriage of convenience. Her family has connections that are crucial for my next step at headquarters. It' s purely business."

He sat across from her, his expression earnest. "Just give me some time. A year, maybe two. Once I' m secure, I' ll divorce her and bring you to the city. We' ll be together again. I just need you to trust me. Don' t you trust me?"

She looked at him and saw a complete stranger. The man she loved would never have asked her to endure this. He wouldn' t have stood by while another woman flaunted a stolen life in her face.

He saw the disbelief in her eyes and sighed, as if she were being difficult. "Look, Chanel is going through a lot. She' s very fragile. We have to be sensitive to her feelings."

His concern was all for Chanel. For her, there was only a demand for patience and a hollow, insulting promise. The betrayal was absolute.