Perfect Professional Alignment

On our third wedding anniversary, my wife, a programmer at a major tech firm, suddenly announced she had to work overtime on a tight deadline and couldn't go on our planned trip.
That same afternoon, I saw a video posted by the intern she was mentoring.
My wife, who usually wouldn't even open a door for fear of chipping her manicure, was using a screwdriver to fix an old feature phone.
The caption read: "Having a programmer for a girlfriend is the best. Grandma's phone breaks, and you don't even have to pay for repairs."
I laughed and left a comment: "Perfect professional alignment."
The company's group chat exploded. 99+ notifications, all of them speculating on when I would finally snap.
When my wife called, her voice was glacial.
"What's with that comment? How is Jack supposed to face anyone at the office now?"
"His grandmother's phone broke, so I helped him fix it. What's the big deal? You have no idea what real problems are like, growing up so sheltered."
"Delete the comment, now. I'll make it up to you with a trip over the long weekend."
She'd been promising since Memorial Day, then pushed it to the Fourth of July. Now she was flaking on the vacation time Id specifically booked, and still dangling another empty promise?
I hung up.
By the time my vacation was over, the mandatory waiting period for the divorce would be, too.
1.
The phone immediately started ringing again. After hanging up a dozen times, I got fed up and blocked Stellas number.
In three years of marriage, I had catered to her every whim. This was the first time I had ever ignored her call.
"Mr. Noah Cole? Your photographer is ready for your anniversary photoshoot. Is your wife arriving soon?"
I glanced at the pristine white dress hanging on the rack.
"She's not coming. Let's change the theme to 'celebrating my new single life.'"
Ignoring the photographer's sympathetic look, I glanced at my buzzing phone.
The intern, Jack, had tagged everyone in the work chat.
"Hey everyone, that post from today was just a joke. Please don't misunderstand!"
That wasn't an explanation; it was a victory lap.
I sneered.
Stella quickly chimed in to support him.
"Jack, you don't have to explain. Anyone can see it was a joke. Only someone truly petty would take it seriously."
With the boss backing him, the rest of the team quickly fell in line, eager to show their loyalty.
"Yeah, we all got the joke. No need to explain it to us."
"Just explain it to that one person. We all know who can't take a joke around here."
It was obvious to anyone with eyes that the boss favored Jack. So, even though they knew I was the one who'd been wronged, my colleagues all took the opportunity to kiss up to him by putting me down. Even the senior developers I had personally mentored were shamelessly sucking up to him.
After all, Stella was the company founder, and Jack was the apple of her eye.
And me? I was just the husband whod helped her build it all from scratch. The sentimental fool who was in way over his head.
I flipped my phone face down on the table, unwilling to watch the parade of corporate ass-kissing. But Id barely taken a few shots when my colleague Mark called, his voice frantic.
"Noah, what's going on with the code for the Summit Corp. custom firewall? It's full of bugs and won't run. The client is already here and raising hell."
I frowned. "That's Jack's project. Why are you calling me?"
"I know! But Stella said the kid was just a little careless and that you should help him fix it."
I laughed, a harsh, humorless sound.
That project was complex. I had told Stella from the beginning that Jack couldn't handle it, but she insisted on letting him "get some practice."
And now that it had blown up in their faces, they remembered I existed.
"If the 'kid' was careless, then the 'kid' can go back and check his work. If the client is angry, the boss can handle it. Follow company procedure."
I hung up before Mark could say another word.
So, you screw up while placating your boy toy, and you expect me to clean up the mess and write the code for him?
Not a chance.
My expression hardened. The photographer, sensing the mood, started snapping away, capturing a dozen shots of me looking fierce and formidable.
Fifteen minutes later, Stella's assistant came running up to me, holding out her phone.
"Noah, it's Stella. She needs to talk to you."
Are you kidding me? She sent her assistant to track me down here?
I snatched the phone. Stella's voice was tight, barely suppressing her fury.
"Noah, don't push it."
"Jack did nothing to you. Are you trying to humiliate him, or are you trying to humiliate me?"
I leaned back in the chair and snorted.
"Did the CEO really send her personal assistant all the way here just to ask me that?"
Her patience snapped. "So I bailed on our trip. You shouldn't be making a scene over something so trivial!" she threatened.
"Take me off your block list, right now, and fix Jack's code. Then we can forget this ever happened."
I gritted my teeth, about to hang up again.
Then I heard laughter in the background. Someone was teasing Jack for wiping sweat off Stella's forehead.
My voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Stella, you're already meeting his parents. Why are you still calling me?"
"Aren't you afraid people might get the wrong idea?"
"Oh, right. I'm the only one in the entire company who can't take a joke."
Her voice shot up an octave. "What are you talking about, meeting his parents? Don't spread rumors!"
"Jack's family lives in the countryside. It's not easy for them to get around. Is it so wrong for a boss to show some concern for her employee? Honestly, dirty-minded people see dirt everywhere!"
She was panting with rage. Then I heard the boy toy's voice in the background.
"Stella, my mom has dinner ready. Let's go eat."
Her tone instantly softened, becoming gentle and coaxing, like she was talking to a child.
"You go ahead, sweetie. I'll be right there as soon as I finish up with this."
When she spoke to me again, her voice was ice.
"Noah, I want that code fixed and submitted within three days. If you miss the deadline, you'll be responsible for the penalty fees, and you can submit your resignation. It won't look good for anyone."
The line went dead.
I gave a bitter smile. I should have accepted the truth long ago: Stella didn't love me.
I should have known it every time she stood me up for Jack, every time she spoke to me with such venom to defend him. I should have known it the moment she signed that divorce agreement. There was no going back.
The photoshoot was the last thing on my mind. I changed and went back to the hotel.
My phone showed hundreds of missed calls from my colleagues. My work messenger was flooded with files and urgent demands for progress reports. It seemed they had finally realized I was the only one who could actually do the job.
But in three days, I would be divorced and unemployed. Why should I care if their project defaulted?
I submitted my resignation through the HR portal.
I expected Stella to fight it, to drag it out. To my surprise, the process was incredibly fast. My termination was finalized in less than half an hour. Normally, it would take a day or two. It couldn't have happened that quickly without Stella's direct approval.
I hadn't realized she could be so ruthless.
But it was a relief. The barrage of work messages stopped, and a weight lifted from my shoulders.
I spent the next three days enjoying my vacation, just as planned, before heading home.
This was the house we had renovated together. We had refused to sell it even during the toughest days of building the company. Back then, we would work until midnight, come home, and collapse on the sofa, massaging each other's aching backs. Life was hard, but the memories were sweet.
But then Stella started coming home less and less. She was always flying somewhere with Jack, claiming it was for business, but his social media was a travelogue of tourist destinations.
I ran my hand over the throw pillow she had given me. It was still soft, but like our love, it was covered in a layer of dust that made my eyes water.
I knew there was nothing left here for me to hold on to.
I called a real estate agent and put the house on the market.
The next day, I went to the office to pack up my things. As I walked out with a box in my arms, I saw my colleagues whispering in small groups. The news of my departure had clearly spread.
Just as I reached the door, Jack blocked my path.
"Noah, have you fixed my code yet?"
He glanced at the box in my hands, then his eyes widened in feigned surprise.
"Noah, what are you doing? You're not... quitting, are you?"
I rolled my eyes. "Are you an idiot? You saw my resignation notice on the company messenger yesterday. Did you already forget?"
Jack's expression stiffened, a flicker of anger in his eyes.
"Even if you quit, you're still responsible for the client's penalty fees if the project isn't finished."
I laughed. "If I remember correctly, the contract lists you as the project lead, doesn't it?"
I clicked my tongue and shouldered past him.
It was a light bump, but he staggered back as if he'd been hit by a car and crumpled to the floor.
"Ah!"
"Jack! Are you okay?"
Stella heard the commotion and came running. She helped him up, saw he was unharmed, and tenderly brushed the dust off his clothes. Then she turned to me, her eyes like daggers.
"Why did you push him? Apologize, now."
Jack shot me a timid glance, then looked at Stella with a pitiful, wounded expression.
"It's okay, Stella. It's not Noah's fault. I was just so worried about the Summit Corp. project..." He bit his lip. "I was rushing and I fell."
Stella patted his back comfortingly. "You're too kind. I saw the whole thing. He pushed you."
She stepped in front of me.
"Noah, is it really that hard for you to help fix a few bugs? Do you even want this job?"
I sneered. "I haven't wanted this job for a long time. I quit yesterday. What is there to fix?"
"You quit? Noah, what is this now?"
She was the one who approved the resignation, and now she was pretending not to know?
She was silent for a moment, then looked at me coldly.
"I already apologized for canceling our trip. What more do you want?"
"If you're unhappy with me, can you at least not bring it to work?"
She still thought this was about her ditching me for our anniversary.
I was tired. Too tired to explain. I tried to walk around them.
But Stella darted in front of me again.
"Stop right there!"
"What's in that box? You're not walking out of here with company property or confidential information!"
I looked up and met her furious gaze. A wave of bitterness and anger churned inside me. My hands started to tremble. Then, something snapped. I tipped the box over, dumping its contents onto the floor.
"Look! See for yourself!"
It was all just my personal stuff.
The last thing to fall was a ceramic mug. It hit the floor with a sharp crack that seemed to make Stella's heart jolt. It was old and faded, but spotlessly clean.
It was a gift from her, from the early days of the company.
Back then, when she said she wanted to be with me forever, she meant it. Now, that promise was as broken as the mug on the floor.
Fighting back tears, I ground the ceramic shards under my heel and walked away.
"This is just trash I don't want anymore. And we don't need to see each other again!"
It felt good to finally let it all out.
I walked out of the building feeling lighter than I had in years. Just then, Anna from the bespoke tailor shop pulled up with the suit I had cancelled. It was the one I had ordered for our third-anniversary celebration.
"Who ordered this?" I asked her.
"Ms. Stella ordered it. It's custom-made for Mr. Jack. It's the same design as the one you cancelled."
"Is that so?"
With all my strength, I ripped the jacket apart. Buttons scattered across the pavement.
No wonder Jack had been bragging on social media about the thousand-dollar suit he was going to wear to some gala with Stella.
It was my money paying for it.
I threw the ruined suit on the ground.
"Tell Stella I did this. This was my suit. Jack can't pull it off."
I walked away, leaving Anna staring in shock.
The moment I held the divorce certificate in my hand, I felt an incredible sense of relief. This miserable, suffocating marriage was finally over.
I was humming to myself as I walked up to my front door, but I stopped when I heard voices inside.
It was Stella's parents.
"What kind of man is Noah? He's completely useless, but acts like he's king of the world!"
"We came all this way, and he couldn't even be bothered to pick us up. It was Jack who ran around doing everything for us," her father grumbled.
Her mother chimed in. "Jack may be from the countryside, but he's a much better person than Noah. And he knows how to respect his elders. He'll be a great father to your children one day."
Jack blushed. "Oh, Auntie, what are you saying? Stella and Noah are the ones who are married."
That seemed to set her off. "They can get divorced! Didn't you say he ripped up that expensive suit Stella bought for you? He's violent and wasteful. How can you live with a man like that?"
My hand froze on the doorknob.
Before Stella's company had taken off, they hadn't treated me like this. Back then, they were impressed by my city background and my ability to help their daughter. They couldn't wait to call me their son-in-law. The warmth they showed me then only made their current coldness more painful.
After a long silence, Stella's voice, cool and detached, finally came. She didn't say a single word in my defense.
"Let's not talk about this. Let's just eat."
Her mother wouldn't let it go.
"Eat? Every time I try to talk sense into you, you change the subject! Am I trying to hurt you? You're still young. Why not find a man who will cherish you, who will be good to you and respect your parents?"
"Noah just sits around all day. He's not as useful as Jack at the office, and he doesn't do any chores at home. How is he supposed to take care of you? And you've been married for three years. Is there something wrong with him? Why haven't you gotten pregnant?"
She painted me as a complete waste of space.
She had no idea that the money her daughter was using to travel the world with her boy toy was money that I had earned.
"That's right, Stella. Jack heard we get carsick and he made a special plum soup for us. He's such a thoughtful boy!" her father added.
I had to laugh.
He made a bowl of soup, and that makes him a saint?
For years, while Stella was busy with the company, I was the one who took care of her parents whenever they were sick. Last year, when her father broke his leg and couldn't even use the bathroom by himself, I was the one who took care of him, day and night.
But they didn't remember any of that.
My nails dug into my palms. I couldn't take it anymore. I threw the door open.
The four of them froze, stunned to see me.
Stella was the first to recover. "Noah, where have you been? Why are you home so late?" she demanded.
Before I could answer, her mother crossed her arms and sneered.
"Just because you're a director at your wife's company, you think you're hot stuff? You're nothing but a moocher."
I ignored her and looked straight at Stella.
"You didn't tell your mother I quit?"
Stella's eyes narrowed.
"Noah, your little tantrum over Jack has gone on long enough. If you threaten me with quitting again, I will have to consider firing you, for the good of the company."
I burst out laughing. "Stella, what are you talking about? You approved my resignation yourself yesterday. Don't you remember?"
Her mother's face twisted into a knowing, contemptuous smirk.
"I knew it. You just want to be a kept man. You want to quit working so you can live off my daughter's money and bleed her dry!"
Stella's expression flickered. "I didn't approve any resignations yesterday!"
I rolled my eyes, too tired to argue. The divorce was final. All that mattered now was getting my stuff and getting away from this toxic family.
As I started to walk toward the bedroom, Jack stopped me.
"Noah, you're back! Come on, wash your hands and eat with us. I just made some simple home-style dishes. I hope you like them!"
I turned to see him standing there, wearing my apron, pulling out a chair for me with a welcoming smile, as if he were the man of the house.
I just glanced at him and sneered.
Her father slammed his hand on the table.
"Stop right there! Have you no manners? Jack was kind enough to invite you to eat, and you act like this? Our family doesn't have a son-in-law like you!"
Jack rushed to her father's side, looking hurt. "Uncle, it's not his fault. He's always been like this"
That was all her mother needed to hear.
"Noah, surely even you can see what's happening. If you don't want to make things ugly, you should agree to the divorce and stop..."
Stella shot to her feet, cutting her mother off.
"Mom! We don't have to get a divorce."
I looked at her, confused by the strange, flickering light in her eyes. For a moment, it looked almost like... affection.
"Noah, what's wrong with you lately? You're always fighting with me. You refused to fix the code, you attacked Jack, you even tore up the suit he was going to wear."
"Are you going through menopause or something?"
I looked at her earnest, concerned face, and I had the strongest urge to slap her.
She brought her lover into our home, and she had the nerve to ask me if I was going through menopause?
I threw the divorce certificate in her face.
"You're the one going through menopause!"
"Do you see this? We're divorced. Now you can take your family and get the hell out of my house!"

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