His Secret Wife Quits Today

The wine stain bloomed across Gavins crisp white dress shirt like a fresh, jagged wound. It happened in slow motionthe stumble, the splash, the collective gasp of the entire marketing department.

Gavin excused himself to the restroom to clean up, leaving a vacuum of silence that was instantly filled with frantic whispering.

Everyone was placing bets on whether hed explode.

"I bet three rounds of shots he loses it," one colleague hissed, leaning over the table. "Remember the intern who spilled coffee on his files? She was packing her box the next morning."

"I wouldnt be so sure," another chimed in, eyebrows raised. "Didn't you hear? Thats Felicity. Shes the bosss one that got away."

A sharp intake of breath swept through the group.

The gossip continued, voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. "They say they only broke up because she moved to Paris after graduation. But look whos back. And look where Gavin is now. Why do you think he took this job?"

"Exactly. Hes been waiting for her. Give it a week, and theyll be the power couple of the year."

Beside me, a coworker nudged my elbow, nearly knocking over my water. "Norah, didn't you go to the same university as them? Come on, spill the tea. Was their love story really as epic as everyone says?"

"Yeah, tell us! Why did they break up?"

I sat there, my hand in my pocket, fingers curling around the cold, hard metal of a wedding band I had taken off five minutes ago.

Ive been secretly married to Gavin for a year.

The excitement in their eyes was palpable, a spotlight I didn't want. They were waiting for me to narrate the legendary romance between the icy genius and the campus queen.

I sat in the darkest corner of the private booth, usually content to be part of the wallpaper. But now, with a dozen pairs of eyes on me, the air felt thin.

Just as I opened my mouth to deflect, the door swung open.

Felicity breezed in, Gavins suit jacket draped casually over her arm like a trophy.

"Gavin said not to wait for him," she announced, her smile dazzling enough to light up the dim room. "He wants us to keep the party going."

She hadnt changed a bit since college. The moment she entered a room, she owned it.

My colleagues exchanged looks that screamed I told you so. The intimacy of using his first name, the jacketit was all the confirmation they needed.

Gavin and Felicity. Even their names sounded like a title on a bestseller list.

One of the bolder guys, fueled by liquid courage, called out, "So, Felicity, give us the scoop. Is there still a spark between you and the boss?"

Felicity didnt look surprised. She blinked playfully, a practiced gesture. "Oh, thats ancient history. Gavin forbid me from talking about it."

The table erupted in knowing "Ooooohs."

She feigned shyness, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. " seriously, don't bring it up in front of him. Hes got thin skin about these things. I dont want him getting mad at me later."

The teasing grew louder. She hadnt confirmed anything, yet shed confirmed everything.

When Gavin finally returned, the wine stain faded but still visible, the conversation died down. No one dared question him directly, but the atmosphere was charged. Eyes darted between him and Felicity like spectators at a tennis match.

People kept dropping buzzwords into the conversation"first love," "regret," "youth."

The ring in my pocket had a sharp edge. It dug into my thigh through the thin fabric of my dress, a physical anchor to a reality that felt increasingly like a dream.

My gaze drifted to Gavins left hand. It was bare.

On the day we picked up our marriage license, his mother had given us matching bands. Gavin had looked at it, polite but distant, and said he wasn't in the habit of wearing jewelry. His ring was currently gathering dust in a drawer in his study.

I regretted coming tonight.

Gavin sat there, a statue of ice, radiating his usual "do not approach" aura. He only spoke once, when Felicity, flushed with wine, started to sway in her seat.

"Let's call it a night," he said. His voice was low, final.

When the boss speaks, people move. Chairs scraped against the floor as everyone scrambled to organize rides.

Someone pushed Felicity slightly toward Gavin. "Boss, Felicitys pretty wasted. Its not safe for her to take a cab alone. Can you drop her off?"

Gavins eyes lifted, locking onto mine across the room.

Before I could breathe, Felicity stumbled, her heels giving way, and she collapsed softly into his chest.

I turned around and walked out the door. I practically ran.

Behind me, I heard his voice, muffled by the distance. "Give me her address."

I hailed a cab alone. The city lights blurred as we drove, rain streaking the windows.

Back at the apartmentour apartmentI filled the bathtub until the water was scalding. I submerged myself, letting the heat seep into my bones, and finally, the tears Id been holding back all night broke free.

Pathetic, I told myself. What right do you have to be aggrieved?

He was the moondistant, cold, beautiful. I was lucky enough to have claimed the moon for a short while, even if I couldnt keep it.

We had barely spoken in college. Our only interaction was the time he asked me to turn in a group project for him because he was too busy bringing Felicity an umbrella in a storm.

It was pure chance that I ended up as an intern in his department after grad school. It was pure fate that his mother turned out to be my eccentric older friend from the dog park.

Under her pressure, he had approached me one afternoon.

"Norah," hed said, looking at a spreadsheet rather than me. "Would you consider marrying me?"

No dating. No proposal. Just a business merger of lives.

We signed the papers that afternoon and went to work the next day. Except for moving in together, nothing changed. He never told a soul. To the world, Gavin was a highly eligible bachelor.

Now, the leading lady had returned to the stage. It was time for the extra to exit.

When I came out of the bathroom, dried and dressed in old pajamas, Gavin was home.

He was sitting on the sofa, reading a file. The lamp cast sharp shadows across his face.

I gathered every ounce of courage I had. I walked up to him. "Gavin, I..."

His phone rang, cutting through the silence like a knife.

He answered, listened for two seconds, and his expression darkened. He grabbed his coat. "Im sorry. Its an emergency. Well talk when I get back, okay?"

He never went out late. Never.

Thirty minutes later, the emergency updated her social media.

Thanks to a certain someone for the late-night hangover soup.

The photo showed a bowl of soup and, in the corner, the distinctive cuff of a mans shirt.

My colleagues were already flooding the comments, speculating about wedding bells, gushing over how the icy boss had melted for his true love.

I looked at the screen. My moon was returning to the sky, where he belonged.

My period arrived with a vengeance that night.

I spent hours curled in a fetal position, drifting in and out of pain-filled sleep. When I finally woke up, the other side of the bed was cold. Gavin had already left.

He liked to be at the office by 7:30. I was a "slide in at 8:59" kind of person. We lived together, but we commuted separately.

When I walked into the office, the air smelled of roasted beans. Felicity was standing in the center of the aisle, looking fresh and vibrant, handing out coffees from a cardboard carrier.

"Treat for the team!" she chirped. "Since I'm the new girl."

Colleagues were fawning over her, praising the "Princess" for her kindness, promising to work double-time today.

She stopped at my desk and handed me a large iced Americano.

"Sorry, Norah," she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "You came in a bit late, so this is the only one left."

My cramps were sending shockwaves through my lower back. Ice was the last thing I needed.

But politeness is a reflex. "Thanks," I muttered, taking the cup. I planned to dump it in the planter the moment she turned around.

Partly because of the cramps. Mostly because it was from her.

But Felicity didn't leave. She stood there, her gaze drifting over me.

"Norah, youve changed so much," she said. "I almost didn't recognize you last night."

"Youre thinner than you were in college. Prettier, too. I was surprised to find you working under Gavin."

In college, Gavin and I were in Class 3. She was in Class 1. We didn't even share lecture halls. The fact that she remembered me was unsettling.

She leaned against my partition, still smiling, but her eyes were scanning me like a barcode reader. It made my skin crawl.

"I actually never thanked you for turning in that group project for Gavin back then," she said breezily. "If you hadn't, I would have been soaked waiting for him."

Then, the pivot. "Why did you choose this company, anyway? Did you know Gavin was here?"

On the surface, it was casual small talk. But in an office full of sharks, it was blood in the water. It painted me as a stalker.

I pressed my lips together, ready to retort, when the office door swung open.

"Felicity. My office," Gavin called out.

She had been appointed directly by HQ as his executive secretary.

"Coming!" She replied cheerfully, her heels clicking a rhythm of victory as she walked toward him.

As the door clicked shut, the office buzzed again.

I stared at the small framed photo on my desk. It was just me, taken on my birthday last year. The same day Gavin had asked me to marry him.

I reached out and slid the back off the frame. Hidden behind the print was another photo. Younger, grainier.

It was my college graduation. I was standing in front of the old humanities building, making a peace sign, looking goofy. My roommate had complained about the background. Why the ugly brick wall, Norah? Why not the fountain?

I had told her the lighting was better.

I lied.

In the photo, five meters behind me, blurred but unmistakable, stood Gavin.

At the exact moment the shutter clicked, he had looked up. He was looking right at the camera. Right at me.

It was our firstand onlyphoto together.

"Norah, meeting in the small conference room. Now."

I jumped, hastily shoving the photo into a folder on my desk. "Coming."

The "brief update" turned into a two-hour marathon. Cold sweat was trickling down my spine from the pain in my abdomen.

When I finally stumbled out of the conference room, dizzy and nauseous, I saw a cluster of people around my desk. They were giggling.

I walked closer, and my blood ran cold.

Felicity was holding the photo.

"So..." she drawled, flipping the picture over. She read the handwriting on the back, her voice loud and theatrical.

"You are my moon."

She looked at me, her expression a mix of pity and amusement. "So I was right. You did stay here because of Gavin."

I lunged for it. "Give that back!"

She sidestepped me easily.

"Norah, are you in love with him?" she asked, her voice dripping with faux innocence.

Around us, the whispers turned into sneers.

"She looks so quiet, but turns out shes a creep," someone muttered. " 'You are my moon'? God, I think Im going to puke."

"Exactly. Felicity went abroad, sure, but Gavin waited three years for her. Hiding a photo like that? Shes trying to be a homewrecker."

"No wonder she worked so hard to pass the internship assessment. Talk about punching above her weight."

The air conditioning vent above me blasted freezing air. I was shaking.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell them I am his wife. I wanted to tell them that when we reconnected, they were already broken up.

But I knew it wouldn't matter.

Because Gavin had never claimed me.

Tears welled in my eyes, hot and stinging. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper, refusing to let them fall. If I cried, I lost the last shred of my dignity.

I snatched the photo from Felicitys hand, ripping it in the process. I didn't look at it. I tore it into shreds and dropped it into the trash can.

"Happy?" I choked out.

Felicity opened her mouth to twist the knife further, but the office door opened.

"What is going on out here? Do you not have work to do?" Gavins voice cracked like a whip.

The crowd scattered like cockroaches when the lights turn on.

Gavin walked over to me. He looked at my pale face, then down at the trash can. He saw the fragments of the photo.

"Why did you..." he started, his brow furrowing.

I didn't let him finish. I pushed past him, head down, and ran for the bathroom.

I couldn't look at him. Not now. I was terrified that if he knewif he realized I had harbored feelings for him long before our arrangementhe would look at me with the same disgust as everyone else.

I survived the rest of the day in a fugue state.

When I walked out of the building at 5:00 PM, Felicity was waiting.

"Norah. We need to talk."

We went to a coffee shop nearby. The smell of caramel usually comforted me; today it smelled like burnt sugar and judgment.

"I called Gavin before I came back to the States," Felicity said, not bothering to touch her drink. "He told me he was married. To you."

She laughed, a sharp, brittle sound.

"I asked him if he loved you. Do you want to know what he said?"

Her manicured fingernails tapped against the wooden table. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I didn't need to ask. The answer was obvious. If he loved me, she wouldn't be sitting here.

"Mrs. Gavin," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "If he wants a divorce, he needs to tell me himself."

Felicity looked surprised by my backbone, but her smirk returned quickly.

"Oh, the divorce is happening. Now that Im back, its just a matter of paperwork. But..."

She leaned in, lowering her voice.

"Do you really think Gavin didn't know about your little crush back in college? Do you think nobody noticed you hoarding his graded papers?"

My stomach dropped.

"Do you know what he said when he found out?"

She paused for effect.

"He said, 'Thats disgusting.'"

It was true. Once, when he asked me to hand in an assignment, the graded papers were returned to me to distribute. I had kept his. I had kept it because his handwriting was beautiful, and it was the only thing of his I could own.

To have that secret, that silly schoolgirl moment, dragged out and weaponized... the shame was blinding.

I stood up and left her there.

When I got home, Gavin was already there.

On the coffee table in front of him lay a file folder. Only one word was visible on the cover: DIVORCE.

Gavin took off his wire-rimmed glasses and looked at me.

"Norah, theres something I need to discuss with you."

Gavin was, above all things, a decent man. Even in divorce, he wanted to "discuss."

What was there to discuss? Was he afraid Id demand alimony? Was he afraid Id cling to his leg and beg him to stay?

I sniffed, fighting the congestion in my nose, and forced a smile. It felt like stretching calm over a screaming void.

"Its okay," I said. "I understand."

"You can tell your mom. Ill make it easy."

"Also... when do you need me to move out?"

Gavin froze. For a second, genuine confusion clouded his eyes.

I widened my smile until my face hurt.

"Give it to me. You need a signature, right?"

"Are you misunder"

The doorbell rang.

Gavin stood up and opened the door. Felicity collapsed into his arms, sobbing.

"Gavin! Someone was following me! Im so scared..."

She was wearing a lace slip dressa stark contrast to the power suit from this morning, but equally calculated. She looked fragile. Beautiful.

Maybe because I was standing right there, Gavin frowned and peeled her off him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice tight.

He glanced back at me, a flicker of panic in his eyes.

I didn't want to watch this. I waved my hand dismissively. "You guys talk. Im going to the bedroom."

Gavin had given me enough respect during our marriage. I wasn't going to be the pathetic wife lurking in the corner while the true loves reunited.

I closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. My face, frozen in that rictus of a smile, finally collapsed.

I buried myself in the duvet, biting down on the corner of the pillow to muffle the sound. The dam broke. I cried until my chest ached, until my eyes were swollen shut.

When I finally emerged, the apartment was silent.

Gavin was gone. Felicity was gone.

I picked up my phone, intending to text him about the timeline for the filing. Instead, I saw Felicitys new post.

Two words: Conquered him.

The photo was a selfie. On her pale neck, a fresh, dark hickey was prominently displayed.

My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a clatter.

I picked it up, forcing my brain to shut down. Don't imagine it. Don't imagine them.

I moved like a robot. Suitcase. Clothes. Toiletries. Laptop.

I walked into the living room. The file on the tablethe one that said DIVORCEwas gone. He must have taken it.

I opened my laptop, downloaded a standard divorce agreement template, and filled in our details.

I signed it.

I left it in the center of the coffee table.

Gavin, I thought. We are officially over.

Gavin had spent three hours dealing with Felicity. He had dragged her to the police station to file a report for the "stalker," and then he had driven to the office to submit his immediate resignation to Headquarters.

It was nearly midnight when he unlocked his front door.

He was exhausted. The apartment was dark. Norah must be asleep.

He felt a knot of anxiety in his stomach. He didn't know if she would agree to leave the city with him. He wanted to move to Seattle, start fresh, away from this toxic office culture.

He flipped on the lights.

His eyes locked onto the white paper sitting on the coffee table.

DIVORCE AGREEMENT.

Gavins heart rate spiked so hard he felt it in his throat.

He didn't even take off his shoes. He stumbled over the edge of the rug in his haste to reach the table.