Chapter 2

That night, Hardy and Mark came home after having dinner out.

As usual, Hardy brought me a little gift. It was a limited-edition silk scarf.

He gently tied it around my neck, his voice full of affection. "Do you like it? I think it really suits your skin tone."

I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. "I love it."

He didn't notice anything unusual.

Mark came over and messed up my hair, just like when we were kids. "Feeling bored at home? I'll take you out for some fun soon."

I nodded sweetly. "Sure."

They both still thought I was just their well-behaved little pet.

*****

That night, Hardy slept soundly.

I quietly got up and slipped back into the study.

I opened my laptop, and the document editor felt a bit rusty after five years away.

I stared at my old resume and began editing it bit by bit.

I deleted the outdated internships and added a few new, not-so-valuable certificates I'd earned over the years.

As I edited, memories came flooding back.

My major was interior design.

My graduation project won the top prize at the college that year.

My advisor once told me regretfully, "Yolanda, with your talent, you shouldn't have settled down as a housewife so soon."

What did I say back then?

I smiled and said, "Ms. Lynn, I married for love."

Now that I thought about it, it was laughable.

Halfway through updating my resume, I clicked open a job site.

In just five years, the design world had turned upside down. There were tons of new tools I'd never even heard of, and fresh ideas I couldn't wrap my head around.

My heart kept sinking.

They were right.

They really turned me into an incompetent trophy wife.

A wave of panic crashed over me.

I really couldn't survive without Hardy?

No way. No one got to decide my life for me.

I shut down those overwhelming job listings and pulled up an online learning platform instead.

I'd start over from scratch.

That night, I didn't sleep a wink.

Early the next morning, I helped Hardy with his tie, as usual.

Before leaving, he kissed my forehead. "I've got an important meeting today, so I might be back late. Be good and stay home, alright?"

"Okay," I said.

After he left, I didn't go to the yoga studio or meet up with friends.

Instead, I went back to the study and opened the course I'd saved last night.

I was like a parched sponge, soaking up knowledge like my life depended on it.

*****

For a whole week, I was living a double life.

By day, to Hardy and Mark, I was still that innocent, carefree Yolanda, untouched by the world.

But at night, after Hardy fell asleep, I'd head to the study and keep learning until late into the night.

After a week, my resume was polished and I'd finally gotten a solid grip on all the newest software out there.

I started sending out applications. Over a dozen went out, but no response came back. Then came the fifteenth.

It was Peak Group, an industry-leading design company.

I applied for an assistant designer role, barely holding out any hope.

I just wanted to use this as a way to close out my crazy week, and then move on to smaller firms.

To my surprise, two days later, I got a call.

It was an unknown number. I hesitated before picking up.

A crisp, professional female voice came through. "Hello, is this Ms. Yolanda Jenkins? This is the HR department at Peak Group.

"We've received your resume and would like to invite you for an interview at 10 a.m. the day after tomorrow."

The interview invitation from Peak Group blasted through my peaceful routine like a thunderclap.

I held my phone, frozen for ages.

I couldn't believe that I actually got a reply.

And it was Peak Group. I'd only ever seen its name in those elite industry magazines.

After the rush of excitement faded, a wave of anxiety hit me even harder.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, seeing the privileged, comfortable woman looking back at me.

My skin was flawless, and my eyes were soft and gentle, but the fire and confidence I had five years ago were nowhere to be found.

Was I really able to pull this off?

I took a deep breath and told myself that I could do it.

At least I had to give it a try.

After I hung up, I began prepping for the interview.

The first thing I had to solve was what to wear for the interview.

I opened my walk-in closet.

One whole wall was lined with designer labels, the latest collections, and limited-edition handbags.

There were evening gowns, cocktail dresses, and dresses perfect for hanging out.

Every single piece was exquisite and luxurious, but not a single one was suitable for an interview.

All those clothes seemed to silently mock the way I'd spent the last five years.

I shut the closet door, grabbed my phone, and got ready to place an order online.

Just then, Hardy called. "Yolanda, there's a charity gala tonight. The stylist is on her way, so start getting ready."

I glanced at the unfinished lesson on my laptop. "Do I really have to go? I'm not feeling great."

Hardy's voice stayed gentle, but there was no room for debate. "This gala is important. A lot of our business partners will be there, so you need to show up."

He paused, and then softened his tone. "Come on, Yolanda. I know you don't like these events. Once it's over, we'll head home at once."

I didn't protest. "Okay."

After hanging up, I leaned back in my chair, feeling utterly exhausted.

This was my life.

I didn't even have the power to say no to a gala.

Because I was Hardy's wife—a flawless trophy, just there to be displayed.

The stylist arrived soon after.

She picked out a pale blue strapless gown for me and gave me flawless makeup.

Staring at my reflection, I looked radiant, like a doll with no soul.