I Left During His Honeymoon

On day two of Eric and Vivien's little "honeymoon," I wrapped up my handovers and hit HR to make my resignation official.Not even ten minutes later—ding. Approved.By Eric, of course."Guess Mr. Sutton couldn't wait to drop her. At least she knew when to back off.""Yeah, sticking around would've just made it messy. Wonder what she's gonna do now.""Why do we care? We're out here scraping by on scraps. She's his wife. She could quit and nap for a year, still be loaded."As I packed my stuff, they stared—barely hiding the smug looks.Nothing new.Everyone knew Vivien and I weren't exactly besties. And Eric? My loving husband? Always took her side—sometimes straight-up embarrassed me in front of everyone just to keep her happy.So yeah, the office turned on me fast, all desperate to suck up to her.I let out a dry laugh. "Sorry to disappoint. I'm not quitting out of heartbreak—I'm leveling up. Just got hired at double the pay, killer benefits."Didn't even glance at their bit

Looking back, I should've just focused on making bank.Feelings? Whatever. Money doesn't stab you in the back.With that mindset, I walked out of the office, already planning my next move.Then my phone buzzed—twice.Eric had just dropped twenty grand on my card.***Everyone thought I married Eric for his money.Funny, since he was the one draining me dry, holding all my cards.He always said his cash was "tied up in the company," so every bill, every splurge, came out of my paycheck and side hustles.I figured marriage was a team effort, not some scoreboard of who paid what. So I kept quiet.Until the math stopped adding up. I made good money—but my account was always gasping for air.So I checked the statements.And there it was. Eric had been using my card to spoil Vivien.Hundred-dollar lipsticks. Designer bags over a grand. On her birthday? He blew tens of thousands renting out a five-star hotel.Meanwhile, I was still rocking the same outfits from two years ago. An

Eric really forgot how feelings work—like a savings account. Keep taking without giving, and yeah, it hits zero real fast.I'd listed the house cheap, so it sold in under a week. After signing everything at the realtor's and locking in the move-out date, I headed home.As soon as I opened the door, laughter echoed inside.***The couple slippers by the door? Gone.Instead? A pair of heels—and Eric's favorite leather shoes. The same ones Vivien gave him for his birthday.That's when it hit me: they were here. Together. Weren't they supposed to be gone for two more days?I was still processing when Vivien strolled out like she owned the place. Wearing my slippers. My pajamas. Hair slightly messy, all casual and smug, like she lived there now."Hayley, why are you back? Isn't it office hours?"She tossed a grape in her mouth and spit the seed into a cup—my cup. Part of the set Eric gave me back when I actually thought that meant something.Eric walked out from the living room ri

Eric's smile cracked. "What do you mean? You want a divorce?"Not the reaction I expected. He didn't look smug—just pissed.Vivien stiffened, but not before that flicker of glee slipped through.Then she switched gears, all fake concern. "Hayley, seriously? You're so bad at handling emotions. Eric only brought up divorce to get you to chase after him, not because he meant it."Just take the papers back, okay? Don't stir things up. He's been working nonstop and just got back to Bellavaro—cut him some slack."She made it sound like she was on my side, but I knew exactly what she was doing—poking the bear.Vivien had pulled this move before—and it always worked. Eric once demoted me just to prove a point and even held back two months of my pay.So yeah, I figured he'd blow up and sign the divorce out of spite.But nope. His jaw locked. A beat later, he said, "I'm not divorcing you. Hayley, we've got too many shared interests..."And there it was—money. That's what had him sweatin

Looked like it finally hit him.Back when he yanked the project out of my hands and gave it to Vivien, I never felt right about it. I ended up cleaning up her mess behind the scenes till it was over.Every time, Eric would laugh it off, scold me for meddling, swear Vivien could handle it.And when it blew up? He'd throw me under the bus for not catching the obvious.So this time? I didn't touch it.He said she could handle it. I let her."No," I said, shaking my head.Eric's brow twitched, ready to blow.Before he could, I said flatly, "This was Vivien's project. Not my job. I had zero authority—or reason—to step in.""But you're my wife," he snapped.I let out a cold laugh. "So what? That means I'm supposed to clean up your messes, take your crap, put up with your silence, and smile while people laugh behind my back?"I did everything a wife should—ran the house, protected your company, put up with you. But you? What part of you screams 'husband'?""I have!" he shot back,