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CHAPTER 5: The first fight in bed
publish date:
2026-08-13 06:15:42“You were. Shut up.”
**The Fight**
That night the tension broke. I was in the bathroom. When I came out, he was on his side of the bed, shirt off, on a call.
“No,” he snapped into the phone. “I don’t care if the factory burns. Fix it or you’re fired.”
He hung up. Saw me.
“What.”
“Nothing.” I got into bed.
“You sighed.”
“I’m allowed to breathe.”
He turned on his side. Staring at me.
“You’re a terrible liar. At dinner. On the phone. Here.”
“And you’re a terrible husband.”
The word hung there. His eyes went dark.
“I’m not your husband. I’m the man paying R5 million to keep you out of debt. Don’t forget it.”
Tears burned my eyes. I hated that.
“Then why did you touch me today? Why did you lie and say I cook?”
“Because the board is watching,” he said. “Because you’re an asset. Because if I lose this company I lose everything.”
“And what about me? Do I lose everything if you decide you’re done?”
He sat up.
“You knew the rules when you signed. No feelings. No questions. No scenes.”
He leaned over me. One hand on the mattress by my head.
“So stop making them.”
His face was inches from mine. Angry. Beautiful. Cold. For one second I thought he’d kiss me just to shut me up, but he didn’t. He got up. Walked to the door.
“I’m sleeping in the guest room tonight. Don’t follow me.”
The door slammed. I lay there on the huge bed, alone, with his cold on my side. He chose the company over me. Again. And I let him.
He didn’t come home.
Day 1. Nothing.
Day 2. His suits were gone from the closet.
The staff whispered. The board called twice. I answered both times.
“Mr. Thorne is in a meeting,” I said. Voice steady.
“He’s with me,” Aunt Nthabi said. “At the golf club. With a woman.”
My stomach dropped.
“Thank you for letting me know.”
**The Event**
Thorne Holdings Annual Gala. Black tie. I had to go. Alone. Or the rumors win. The dress was red. Sleeveless. Backless. The one Michael picked out last month and said “Don’t wear this. You’ll cause problems.”
I wore it anyway. I walked in alone. Cameras flashed.
“Where’s Mr. Thorne?”
“Is the marriage over?”
I smiled. “My husband is busy closing a R2 billion deal. He sends his love.”
Lie. Then the doors opened. Michael. In a black tux.
And on his arm... Amara Vele.
His ex. The one from 3 years ago. Heiress. Model. The woman the board wanted him to marry. The room went silent. He didn’t look at me. Not once. He walked straight to the stage.
“Good evening,” he said into the mic. “I’d like to introduce my guest, Miss Amara Vele. We’ve reconnected.”
Reconnecting. While I was wearing his ring. He finally looked at me. Across the room. Cold. Empty. Like I was a stranger.
**The Bathroom**
I ran. Locked myself in a stall and shook. The door opened.
“Palesa?” Amara’s voice. Smooth. Perfect.
“I know you’re in there. Can we talk?”
I didn’t answer.
“I don’t want to fight,” she said. “I just want you to know... Michael and I, we have history. Real history. Not a contract.”
She laughed. “He told me everything, about the money. About your mom. He said you were desperate.”
The lock clicked. I came out.
“Get out of my face.”
“Or what? You’ll tell the board?” She stepped closer. “He doesn’t want you. He wants the company. And he wants me.”
I slapped her, really hard. Security came.
**The Car Ride Home**
Michael was waiting in the driveway. Alone.
“Get in.”
I got in.
“You hit Amara,” he said. Flat.
“She deserved it.”
“You embarrassed me. You embarrassed the company.”
He pulled over. In the middle of nowhere. Dark.
“Do you have any idea what you just did?”
“I defended myself.”
“No. You broke the contract.” He turned to me. Eyes furious. “Clause 3. No scandals. No drama. You just gave Khabo everything he needs to fire me.”
“I don’t care!” I yelled. First time. “You brought her! To humiliate me!”
“I brought her,” he said, voice deadly quiet, “because you needed to see what real looks like. Not this fake shit we’re doing.”
The words hit harder than the slap.
“So that’s it?” My voice broke. “You’re done?”
“I never started,” he said. “Don’t make this harder than it already is, Palesa. Pack your things when we get home. The lawyer will call you tomorrow about the settlement.”
He drove home in silence. I slept in the guest room. Again.
**3AM**
I heard his car leave. He didn’t come back. He meant it. He was crueler than I thought possible. And I was R2.5M richer... and completely alone.
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