His Greatest Pretense

"If you want to leave, fine. However, first, you have to delete every client's contact information and every coworker's number. Those are company assets, and you have no right to take them with you."

Just as I was about to walk out, Wendy Baker, my husband's young girlfriend, stepped in front of me and blocked my way. Having managed the company for years, I knew perfectly well there was no such policy. She was targeting me on purpose.

I turned to look at my husband, Jeff Cooper. "Is that what you want too?"

Jeff stared at me for a moment, his expression distant, as if he were trying to place who I was. Then, he gave an icy nod.

If I really deleted those contacts, there would be no going back.

He was convinced I would not dare leave, which was why he was acting tough right now.

Honestly, it was not hard to see why he thought that. We had been married for seven years and never had children. The company had become our child instead. In many ways, I cared about it even more than he did.

I was always the first one in and the last one out, chasing deals, meeting clients, and making sure nothing slipped through the cracks.

Just last week, Jeff announced at a senior management meeting that he wanted Wendy to take over as the manager of the Technology Department.

Several longtime employees were hesitant about the decision, but nobody wanted to challenge him openly. They offered a few polite compliments about Wendy, and the proposal was quickly approved by everyone except me.

After reviewing Wendy's qualifications, I found that her skills were not even close to meeting the requirements for the position. Ignoring Jeff's pride and reputation, I cast the sole vote against the promotion and shut it down immediately.

Jeff knew better than anyone that I would never let him turn the company into his personal playground. Hence, to get Wendy what she wanted, he actually went as far as staging a ridiculous case of amnesia after a car accident just to force me to give in.

As the argument was drawing attention, several coworkers hurried over to mediate.

"Ms. Yates, calm down. Mr. Cooper is sick. You're his wife. At a time like this, when he's so vulnerable, you should try to be more understanding."

The comment seemed to encourage Jeff.

Straightening his back, he declared seriously, "My wife means everything to me. Anyone in this company who goes against my wife is going against me."

The room immediately burst into laughter. A few coworkers nudged me playfully.

"See, Ms. Yates? Your husband still loves you. He's just sick right now. He accidentally mistook someone else for you."

As I felt the envious looks directed my way, I could not bring myself to smile.

The truth was nothing like what they thought they were seeing.

Jeff and I were married, and on the surface, we seemed like a respectable couple. However, whenever a problem came up, he was always the one pushing me to compromise.

It did not matter who was right or wrong, and it did not matter where we were; he always stood on the opposite side of me. We had argued about it more times than I could count. Yet every time, he would say the same thing.

"You're family. No matter how badly we fight outside, we'll make up when we get home."

Then, he would add, "Other people aren't the same. Once you offend them, there's no fixing it."

Even though those words never sat right with me, after hearing them for years, I had slowly started believing he might be right.