Chapter 4
The next morning, the office's central air conditioning was on full blast.
Cold air poured through the vents and slipped into everyone's collars, making the whole office feel chilly.
I walked into the break room with my mug.
Just as I finished filling it with warm water, the rapid clack of high heels echoed behind me.
They were quick and heavy, carrying a blatant, aggressive vibe.
Mallory strode in, clutching an empty coffee cup.
She was rocking a fiery red lip gloss that turned heads.
Even her gaze and brows carried a hint of that satisfied blush.
"Lilyanna, about that photo of me and Mr. Aguirre in the garage last night, don't get the wrong idea," Mallory said.
She leaned against the counter and fiddled with her freshly done manicure, feigning innocence.
"I'm just terrified of the dark, you know, and Mr. Aguirre is so protective. He absolutely insisted on walking me down himself," Mallory said.
I kept quiet.
Unbothered, I twisted the lid back onto my mug.
When Mallory saw I was ignoring her, a flicker of annoyance flashed in her eyes.
She stepped up, blocking my path.
The sharp smell of her perfume mixed with the bitter coffee, wafting right up my nose.
"Mr. Aguirre might seem all business at work, but when it's just us, he's surprisingly sweet," Mallory said, lowering her voice.
Her smirk widened as she continued, "Last night, when the thunderstorm hit, he even texted me to soothe me, saying he'd pull me into his arms and cover my ears."
Mallory deliberately stretched out her words.
She couldn't wait to show off the spoils she'd stolen right out from under me.
Turned out, Yannick, who was right there beside me the previous night, really replied.
I gripped my mug so tightly that my knuckles turned white.
But I kept my expression flat, just watching her.
She didn't see the collapse she was hoping for in my expression.
Her delicate features twisted with anger and disappointment.
A sharp sound shattered the silence in the break room.
With a swipe of her elbow, Mallory knocked a glass off the edge of the counter, sending it smashing to the floor.
Glass shards flew everywhere.
"Guess my hand slipped," Mallory said coolly.
She raised her chin, fixing me with a defiant glare.
I looked at the chaos on the floor. Not even my eyelashes twitched.
My gaze slid right past her shoulder, as if she wasn't even there.
Then I turned aside.
Without hesitation, I walked straight out, glass crunching under my heels.
The crisp sound of my heels crushing the shards was the purest form of ignoring her.
Back at my desk, I pulled out my chair and sat down.
I took a sip of warm water, trying to steady the storm inside me.
My fingers tapped the screen.
I opened Ryleigh Becker's chat window and said: [Sat through a lousy monkey show. Bored me.]
A rich coffee aroma drifted over.
Mallory walked over, holding a fresh cup of hot coffee, and paused by my desk.
She looked down, flipping through the reports on my desk.
Her voice was just loud enough for the nearby desks to hear. "Lilyanna, Mr. Aguirre specifically asked me to pay extra attention to this data."
Several nearby colleagues stopped typing.
They cast suggestive glances our way.
Mallory basked in the attention.
Then she bent down, got right up next to me, and whispered in my ear, "Must be pretty boring, just being another coworker for Mr. Aguirre, huh?
"Every day, you watch him give all his sweetness and perks to someone else, while you're just slaving away, keeping your head down. Pathetic."
I caught the reflection of her cocky grin in my computer screen.
That sick, familiar feeling washed over me again.
A sting shot through my chest.
Yannick was right there, just across the floor in his glass-walled office.
The blinds were half-open.
He could see everything going on outside, but he chose to keep quiet.
He just let Mallory parade around like she owned the place, flaunting herself on his turf.
He allowed her to humiliate his wife of seven years, right in front of everyone.
I hid my hand beneath the desk and placed it over my flat stomach.
I swallowed back the sourness burning in my throat.
For the sake of the little life growing inside me, I had to hold onto my bottom line in this corporate jungle.
Without betraying any emotion, I watched the office door.
Beneath Yannick's polished, gentlemanly shell, there was an insatiable need for validation.
He lapped up every bit of worship Mallory threw his way.
But he still needed me—the wife in the shadows—to keep his life together.
He figured that as long as he kept glossing over the cracks, he could stay on his throne forever.
But anyone who treated people's hearts like bargaining chips was bound to get bitten in the end.
Beneath the polished facade of the workplace, the undercurrents had been swirling for a while.
Did Yannick really think he could keep this laughable balance going forever, just by feeding his ego?
I doubted it.
"*****
That evening, I got back to the apartment."
The dining room chandelier cast a bright white glow.
Yannick was cutting into his steak.
The clink of his fork and knife against the plate rang out sharply.
The sound was especially jarring in the empty dining room.
He swallowed a bite of steak.
"Don't read too much into that group chat photo from last night," Yannick said, not even looking up at me.
He spoke as casually as if he were talking about the weather.
"Mallory's just a kid fresh out of school—timid, gets spooked by the dark," he added. "I just finished working late and happened to drop her off at the parking garage, that's all."
I looked at the salad sitting untouched in front of me.
The dressing on the leaves had already hardened.
It looked shriveled and dead.
"I saw it all," I said.