Chapter 1

Five years married, and I'd had enough of my husband Nat Gilbert and his need to avoid the appearance of favoritism.

When promotions came around, he said, "To avoid any appearance of favoritism, I have to give you the lowest score."

The team lead position went to Diana Fox, who'd been with the company less than six months.

When bonuses were handed out, he said, "To avoid any appearance of favoritism, I can only give you two hundred dollars."

Diana Fox got a bonus of twenty thousand.

I forced down the bitterness in my chest. He didn't not love me. He was just being careful about appearances.

Until I lost the baby.

He said to me, "Rest two days and come back to work. You can't throw around your position as Mrs. Gilbert and do whatever you please."

Then he turned around and gave Diana Fox seven days of paid leave.

That was when I understood. He wasn't careful about appearances with everyone. His heart had leaned toward Diana Fox a long time ago.

This marriage of careful appearances, I didn't want it anymore.

1

Nat Gilbert sent a message: "Evelyn Winfield, you only had a miscarriage. It's not like you can't move."

"If I approved ten days or half a month off for you, it would start rumors in the company."

"You don't want people saying you climbed the ladder on your status as Mrs. Gilbert, do you?"

I looked at the message, and something uneasy stirred in me.

The day I lost the baby, he held my hand and said, aching, "Evelyn, don't be sad. We'll have children again someday."

"Right now the most important thing is getting your body back to health."

But the moment we got to the office, he turned back into the cold, impartial Mr. Gilbert.

He always said he didn't want the outside world to see only that I was Mrs. Gilbert, that it would eclipse what I'd earned.

Five years married, and I'd lost count of how many times he'd done this in the name of appearances.

I couldn't ride the elevator with him at the same time, couldn't sit at the same table for meals, and certainly couldn't walk beside him.

On projects, when the credit and the achievement were clearly mine, he would pretend not to see, for the sake of appearances.

When it came to promotions, he even used his one vote to block me from making director.

At any gathering, I could never be his partner. I was only a subordinate carrying his bag.

I replied, "Understood."

The sound of my coworkers gossiping reached me.

"Diana, Mr. Gilbert is so good to you. You got your period, and he gave you seven days of paid leave, just like that."

Diana Fox showed off the chat log on her phone. "Right? Mr. Gilbert even wrote out a whole list of things to watch for during my period."

Hearing them, the ache in my chest started up.

When I had my period, the most I ever heard from him was drink more hot water.

He'd said that to keep anyone from accidentally seeing our chats, even his replies had to stick strictly to a boss-and-subordinate tone.

So it turned out the chats with me were from a template, and what he sent Diana Fox was a little essay.

The dull, dragging pain low in my belly after the miscarriage was nothing next to the pain in my heart right now.

At the end of the workday, the sky suddenly opened into a downpour.

After a miscarriage, forget getting rained on, I couldn't take so much as a draft of wind.

Everyone was forced to wait at the company's front doors.

Then Nat Gilbert's car pulled up, and something moved in me.

He did still have me in his heart.

Nat Gilbert spoke, offhand. "I'll give you all a ride."

My steps caught without my meaning them to, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him looking at me.

My throat tightened. "Mr. Gilbert, I can't be out in the wind. Could I go first—"

The next moment, one sentence shattered my ridiculous hope.

He cut me off. "Miss Winfield, you and I aren't going the same way."

Watching the exhaust trail from his car, I crouched down and wrapped my arms around myself.

My nose stung, and the tears came.

This so-called avoiding appearances, was it really for my good?

Back home, Nat Gilbert glanced at me, drenched and disheveled.

"I just didn't want them to find out we live in the same complex. That's the only reason I didn't drive you back."

He stood there with the look of a man ready to argue it out with me.

I gave a soft laugh. "I understand."

Then I noticed the ring on his hand.

To avoid appearances, he'd worn our wedding ring for only two hours, at the wedding itself.

I asked, my voice gone hoarse, "Didn't you say a ring gets in the way of work?"

He explained it away carelessly. "Lost a bet at the team retreat. Wearing the ring is the penalty."

I remembered that ring. It matched the one on Diana Fox's hand, a couple's pair.

Before I could answer, he picked up his coat and walked out without looking back.

"Something came up, I have to work late. I'll sleep at the office tonight. Don't wait up."

Less than half an hour later, a post popped up on social media.

【Having someone rub my belly all night during my period is such bliss!】

The photo attached was Nat Gilbert's hand, the ring on his finger.

Before, when I had my period, he always complained he could smell the rust of it and never once slept in the same bed as me.

But now, he could rub Diana Fox's belly all night.

In that moment, my heart died completely.

I opened the company app and submitted my resignation.