Shameless Homewrecker

That evening, a message popped up from the kid my mother was sponsoring.

He sent a sheepish text explaining that hed changed our Wi-Fi password when he came over to drop something off for Evelyn. He said he was just bored.

He followed it up with a string of letters: CluelessOldFossil.

I remembered how the Wi-Fi had suddenly cut out earlier that day, flashing a "wrong password" error. Id asked Evelyn about it, but she just said it was probably a glitch. She was buried in her work, so I let it go.

I didn't reply to his text. That night, I had dinner with Evelyn, just like always.

The next day, I changed the password again.

At the morning meeting, I made a point of looking right at the kid. "By the way, the new Wi-Fi password is 'HomeWrecker.' Make sure you type it in right next time."

Evelyn held it together for the entire day. The moment we got home, she exploded.

"What the hell was that at the meeting this morning? Now everyone at the office thinks something is going on between me and Liam. Are you happy now?"

"So you admit he was in our house while I was gone," I said, my eyes fixed on the financial news flickering across the TV. I didn't have to look at her to picture the storm brewing on her face.

A second later, she stormed over and snapped the TV off.

"Don't forget, you're the one who got him the job. He's an employee, and he was here to deliver work files. What's the big deal?" she shot back. "And what about that time on the bus? You humiliated him in public. Did you even once think about how that made me feel?"

That time. Id seen it with my own eyes: the cool, ever-composed Evelyn, squeezing onto a crowded city bus right alongside Liam.

The old me would never have been able to imagine such a scene.

For our anniversary last year, Id planned a sunset bike ride. It was supposed to be romantic. Instead, she trailed me in her sports car, practically idling, watching me pedal by myself like an idiot.

Finally, shed just rolled down the window and said, "God, could you be any more clich?"

The memory soured in my mouth, and I fought to keep the rage out of my voice.

"How long has it been going on between you two?"

Silence stretched between us. She tilted her head back and let out a long, weary sigh.

"I told you, it's just work. Do you have to turn everything into a fight?" She paused, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. "You're becoming more and more like your father. Always looking for trouble where there isn't any."

My blood ran cold.

Eight years ago, my mother began sponsoring Liam and his mom. My father became convinced they were having an affair. The suspicion drove him mad.

He slit his wrists in the bathtub. The water turned a deep, sickening crimson, spilling over the edge to lick at my feet. It felt scalding, and my whole body shook.

Evelyn rushed over when she got the call. She wrestled the blade from my hand as I tried to follow him, her arm taking the cut meant for me. She just held me, repeating over and over, "It's okay, it's okay"

It's the nightmare that has haunted me my entire life.

And now, she was using it to shut me up.

By the time I surfaced from the memory, Evelyn was already in the bathroom. Her phone, left on the table, was open to Liams social media feed. Shed just liked his latest post.

[Did a good deed with the boss today! She was so scared of needles she buried her face in my chest! Guess I'm the only one who's seen her this vulnerable]

The screen was a blur of flower and heart emojis, each one a weight crushing the air from my lungs.

Evelyn has a severe phobia of blood. I know this better than anyone.

When I was in that car accident, bleeding out, she was a perfect match. But she just stood there, watching me writhe in agony, sweat pouring down my face. She wouldn't give a single drop. By the time the hospital found a compatible donor, I was already in the ICU. The doctor told me a few more minutes and I would have been gone.

The comments section was a party.

[Dude, details on the "buried her face" part?] [Her own husband almost died and she wouldn't give him a drop of blood. How'd you manage this?] [Liam, you're a legend!]

Liam's replies were flirty and vague, but I couldn't really see them through the haze in my eyes. The only thing in focus was Evelyn's thumbs-up. Her "like."

I tilted my head back, wiped the moisture from my eyes, and dialed my lawyer.

"I need you to draw up divorce papers."

At 3 a.m., Evelyn shook me awake.

"I just learned how to make dumplings. Get up and have some."

She dragged me into the kitchen. Flour dusted every surface, and bits of filling were scattered like confetti. It was my father's recipe, the one he always used to recite from memory.

Shed never stepped foot in the kitchen before. She used to complain about the smell of cooking oil on my clothes.

Now, here she was, her face smudged with flour, her hands clumsily but intently folding the dough. The old me would have snapped a nine-photo collage for social media: [My wife made me dumplings by hand. I'm the luckiest man alive.]

But now, I just fought back a yawn.

"Have you ever cooked for him?"

Her hands stilled. She shot me a look that screamed, Here we go again.

"I made you food. I said nice things. What more do you want from me?"

The next second, the bag of flour hit the floor with a soft thud.

The dam inside me broke. "You let him come and go from our house as he pleases, you go with him to donate blood, everyone in the company is whispering about you two"

"Enough!" Her voice shot up, sharp and cracking. "You are my husband, Ryan, not some low-life picking fights in an alley. Look at yourself! Look at how crazy you've become!"

She wasn't done. "Liam comes from nothing, but he works hard and everyone at the company loves him. But you? The employees can't stand you. Maybe you should take a look in the mirror and ask yourself why!"

As she spoke, she was already typing on her phone. A notification popped up in the company-wide group chat.

An official announcement firing me from my position.

It took me five years to climb from an entry-level position to director.

It took her one second to erase it all.

"There. Are you satisfied?" she spat, yanking off her apron. "Now you won't have to see any of this so-called 'gossip' from your employees anymore!"

She stormed out of the house, leaving her phone on the counter.

Some dark impulse made me pick it up. I opened her chat with Liam.

Liam: [Did the trick I taught you work? Even the most stubborn old fossil can be tamed, right? ;)]

Evelyn: [Haha, not so sure it'll work on Ryan.]

So, the dumplings were his idea.

And she agreed with him. I was the stubborn, old fossil.

Evelyn didn't come home that night.

Instead, she appeared in a live photo on Liams social media feed. Two shadowy figures, tangled together in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of her CEO office. The sound of a kiss, just for a second, was a knife twisting in my ear.

The comments flooded in.

[Is the boss getting a new husband?] [Finally! Maybe we can get rid of that old fossil for good. Things will be so much better at work!]

She had to have known he was filming. She had to. She wanted me to see it. She wanted me to know that without the title of 'Evelyn's husband,' I was nothing. No one would respect me. I had no right to question her. I would end up just like my father.

My hand trembled as I liked the post.

I went back to our bedroom, opened a suitcase, and started packing. The framed photo of us on the nightstand went straight into the trash.

I was done. I was done with all of it.

I sat awake until the early hours of the morning, when the email from my lawyer finally arrived. The divorce papers.

I opened the file, signed my name without a moment's hesitation, and asked him to have a physical copy delivered.

I don't know how long she'd been standing there, but suddenly Evelyn was behind me, a confused frown on her face.

"Who's getting a divorce?"

"A friend," I said, my voice flat, my expression unmoving.

The tension instantly drained from her shoulders. She let out a knowing little laugh.

"I figured," she said. "Your father is dead. Your mother is drowning in debt from a lifetime of charity, needing her son's wife just to pay her hospital bills. What right could you possibly have to ask for a divorce? I was worried for nothing."

Every word was a razor blade slicing me open.

I said nothing. Her tone softened slightly.

"As long as you play the part of my husband and stop with these baseless suspicions, I can give you anything you want."

She turned to leave, tossing one last comment over her shoulder.

"The company's promotion ceremony is tomorrow. It wouldn't look right if you didn't go."

For a split second, my heart fluttered. A foolish, desperate part of me fantasized that she was going to acknowledge my five years of hard work.

I stayed up all night preparing a speech. I tried on the custom-tailored suit she had bought for me.

The next day, the banquet hall was buzzing, glasses clinking.

I stepped inside, and the condescending stares that met me wiped the practiced smile right off my face.

Up on the brightly lit stage, Evelyn personally announced Liam as the new director. My replacement.

"Oh, good, you're here," she said, her eyes finding me in the crowd. Her tone was casual, breezy. "If Liam has any questions moving forward, you can help him out. You'll have plenty of free time at home, might as well do something useful."

A wave of snickers rippled through the room.

The whispers found their way to my ears.

"Looks like we were right. There's no place for him at the company anymore."

"Not just the company. I bet there won't be a place for him in the family for much longer either."

"He used to be Mr. Walker, Director Walker, throwing his weight around. Now look at him. He's nothing! Ha!"

Evelyn heard them. She had to have heard them. She didn't say a word to defend me.

She stepped down from the stage and leaned in close, her voice a low murmur.

"This promotion was Liam's birthday wish. I had to make it happen."

"Besides," she added, "you won't have to work so hard anymore. Isn't it better to just stay home?"

She asked it so matter-of-factly, so certain I would just nod and agree.

"But I" But I poured my soul into this for five years to get to this point.

She didn't have the patience to hear me finish. She was already turning away, taking Liam by the arm to introduce him to industry executives, to all the important players.

Just like she used to do with me.

But that was then.

She handed my project proposals to Liam, coaching him line by line on how to handle the executives' toughest questions.

The whole thing was a grotesque farce.

I couldn't stand it for another second. As I turned to leave, Liam's voice stopped me.

"Ryan," he said, grabbing my arm, his grip deliberately tight. "You're not mad at me for taking your job, are you? Please don't hate me."

The innocent, grateful boy my mother had sponsored was gone. In his place was this thing, his eyes glinting with provocation.

I looked down, a bitter laugh escaping my lips, then met his gaze.

"My mother sponsored you, paid for your college, supported you and your mom. It wasn't so you could steal my wife."

The smile on Liam's face froze for an instant, then returned, wider and uglier. "Well, may the best man win."

With that, he let out a sharp cry and stumbled backward, collapsing right into Evelyn's arms.

"Evelyn," he whimpered, "seeing Ryan it's bringing back all the nightmares from college." His voice broke. "His mother she took advantage of me! She used the sponsorship as an excuse to"

The room erupted.

Every head turned, every pair of eyes stared at me, filled with shock and disgust.

My nerves screamed. My voice rose an octave. "What are you talking about? My mom would never do something like that!"

Liam just clung to Evelyn, trembling like a frightened child.

"I was always too scared to say anything," he sobbed. "But now that Ryan's not at the company anymore I finally feel safe enough to tell the truth"

Evelyn's head snapped up. Her eyes were chips of ice.

I stared at her, my brow furrowed in disbelief. "You believe him?"

Her gaze was venomous. "Your mother," she said, each word a hammer blow, "knows exactly what she did."

And just like that, it was fact. In the eyes of everyone there, my mother was a predator.

And I was her son.

"Using charity as a cover for that? What kind of monster does that?"

"And him? The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"No wonder he was always going after Liam. He was afraid the truth would come out!"

"To think someone like that was working right beside us. It's terrifying."

The faces around me twisted into ugly masks. The accusations rained down.

I shook my head, helpless. "No, you're wrong. My mom would never"

I lunged for Liam, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. "Tell them! Tell them the truth! My mom gave up everything for you! She went without new clothes, she worked while she was sick, just so you could go to college!"

A hand shoved me back. It was Evelyn, her face a cold, hard mask of fury.

"How dare you threaten him to change his story?" she snarled. "Liam is a good, honest person. Why would he ever lie about something that shames him like this? I think you're just angry you got caught!"

Right there, in front of everyone, she pulled out her phone and called the hospital.

"Stop all payments for my husband's mother's care, effective immediately. A person like that doesn't deserve to live."

My world collapsed.

Wine glasses and pieces of cake flew through the air, pelting me. The words "predator's son" echoed from all sides.

"His mother doesn't deserve to live, and neither does he!"

"Just go die already!"

Fists and palms rained down on my face. They spat on me. Someone slashed my cheek with a broken piece of a glass. Through the chaos, Evelyn started to move toward me, but Liam let out a sudden cry of pain.

"My head it hurts so much! I think I think I see him coming for me"

Without a second thought, Evelyn had someone hoist Liam up and rush him to the hospital.

The shouts and curses around me faded into a dull roar. All I could see was my mother's face, her expression of anguish when she heard the lie.

Amid the kicks and punches, I fumbled for my phone, desperately dialing the hospital.

The voice on the other end was calm, clinical. "Mr. Walker, I'm very sorry for your loss. Your mother received several abusive phone calls a short while ago. Her heart gave out. She passed away moments ago."

The fight drained out of me. I went limp, letting the blows fall where they may.

The voice on the phone said to "take care," but I couldn't shed a single tear.

I don't know how much time passed. The crowd eventually dispersed. My phone rang. It was Evelyn.

"I've sent some money to your mother's account. She won't die just yet. As for the truth, we'll let the police handle it." Her voice was tired. "I think you've caused enough trouble. Stay home and think about what you've done. I won't be back for three days."

"Okay," I whispered into the phone.

After hanging up, I deleted her number. I deleted everything.

I went home, picked up my packed suitcase, and placed the signed divorce papers on the coffee table.

I said goodbye to the home I had lived in for nearly ten years.

One last stop.

I picked up my mother's ashes from the hospital and boarded a flight that night.

Evelyn, this is goodbye. For good.

Three days later, Evelyn came home carrying groceries and a bouquet of fresh flowers. The moment she pushed open the door, she froze.