She Ate His Cake, I Ate His Company

Synopsis

I headed to the hospital to pick up my husband, Chris Ford, only to find his assistant, Vivian Lane, packing up his belongings. To be precise, she was packing his underwear. Vivian crouched by the suitcase, a pair of charcoal-gray briefs half-folded in her hands. When she saw me, she didn't fluster. She pressed them to the bottom of the case, zipped it shut, stood, and bowed her head. "Ms. Kate Simmons," she said. Before I could speak, Chris frowned from the hospital bed, reaching to brush the rain-damp hair from my cheek. "Why no umbrella?" he asked. "The wind's too strong," I said. In the car, he turned the AC up. Passing a dessert shop, he asked, "Do you want a cake?" I said no. He asked again. This time, he did not look at me. The backseat fell quiet for two seconds. Then Vivian said softly, "I'm not in the mood for sweets either." Rain scraped across the windshield in a steady rhythm. The car was dead silent. I looked at the man beside me. I'd raised him up and I'd taught him to be ruthless. Suddenly, I felt something akin to regret. He'd learned my methods, but not my boundaries. Still, it did not matter. Rules were never truly learned through words. They were carved in pain. Cross the line once, and he would understand.