Chapter 3

[ NANCY’S POV ]

The next morning, the sun was shining as if the nightmare of the night before hadn't happened. My phone rang early. It was my friend Maria calling, her voice sounding hesitant and worried. She told me to turn on the TV.

She said she had seen Dave being interviewed by the press at a morning event, and Lydia was standing right beside him.

With a sinking heart, I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. I found the channel just as the interviewer leaned in with a microphone.

I stared at the screen, my heart sinking further with every second. It wasn't just a small local station. Because of Dave’s position in the company, this was a major business lifestyle segment. His face was everywhere, on the flat screen in our living room, on social media feeds, and likely on the TVs in every office in the city.

Lydia looked perfect, her hair styled and a bright smile on her face. Dave stood tall next to her, looking every bit the successful man I once admired.

The broadcast felt like it went on forever. I sat on the edge of the sofa, the remote gripped so hard in my hand that my palm ached. It wasn't just a quick clip; it was a full feature on the "Man of the Year."

The interviewer started with the professional stuff. "Dave, your company has seen a 40% growth this year alone. How are you so capable of managing such a massive workload without burning out?"

Dave leaned back, looking sharp in the suit I had personally ironed for him two days ago. "It’s about discipline," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "I don't allow distractions. I surround myself with people who understand my vision and don't get in the way of the goal."

I flinched. Distractions. That’s what I was to him.

"And your reputation for landing big contracts is legendary," the reporter continued. "How do you decide which deals to accept? What’s the secret behind the company?"

Dave smiled, and Lydia leaned in, nodding as if she were part of the secret. "I only accept contracts that have a long-term future. I don't waste time on things that don't have value or don't move me forward. You have to be cold sometimes to win in this business."

Lydia chimed in then, her voice chirpy. "He’s being modest. He’s a genius. He knows exactly when something or someone has outlived its usefulness."

They laughed together, a private joke shared in front of thousands of viewers.

"Now, let's talk about the woman behind the man," the interviewer said, shifting the tone to something more gossipy. "Lydia, you’ve been by his side at every major event lately. How long have you two been this close?"

Lydia leaned into him slightly, her eyes glowing. "He’s my childhood sweetheart," she said sweetly. "It’s been so long... he’s really my person."

It’s true," Dave added, looking at her instead of the camera. "It’s rare to find someone who really knows you."

Then came the question that broke me.

"With all this success, Dave, everyone wants to know... is there a Mrs. Dave? Are you married, or are you still the city’s most eligible single man?"

There was a pause. A tiny, split second where he could have said my name. He could have mentioned his home. Instead, he just gave a slow, deliberate nod when the reporter said the word 'single.'

"I'm focused on my work," he said, effectively wiping me out of his history. "And as I said, I haven't found a reason to give up my freedom yet."

"Well," the interviewer teased, looking at Lydia, "it looks like you two are incredibly compatible. Why haven't you two married each other? You look like the perfect power couple."

They didn't look away. They didn't deny it. They just looked at each other and smiled. It was the kind of look that said everything without saying a word.

The interviewer kept digging, clearly captivated by the image they were projecting.

"Lydia," the reporter said, turning her attention back to her, "you seem to handle his schedule and his needs so effortlessly. Some would say you’re the glue holding Dave's company together. How do you stay so composed when things get hectic?"

Lydia let out a soft, musical laugh that made my skin crawl. "It’s easy when you truly care about the person. I make sure he has exactly what he needs, exactly when he needs it. No mistakes, no drama. I think that’s the most important thing for a man in his position, having someone who doesn't add to the stress."

She was talking about me. She was throwing the "wrong documents" and the "car breakdown" in my face through the television screen. She was telling the world that she was the competent one, the one who belonged by his side, while I was just a source of "drama."

Dave reached out and squeezed her hand for a brief second. "Exactly," he said. "Efficiency is everything. In business and in life."

"So," the interviewer leaned in closer, "what’s next for the two of you? Any big plans? Perhaps a merger of a more... personal kind?"

Lydia looked at Dave, her eyes sparkling with a challenge. Dave didn't flinch. He just gave that same cool, calculated smile

"We have a lot of big things coming up," Dave said vaguely. "I like to keep people guessing. But I will say this: I’m finally surrounding myself with the right team.

I turned off the TV. The silence that followed was deafening. I looked at the walls of the house I had spent years making a home, and for the first time, I realized I was living in a museum of a marriage that had already ended. He wasn't just cheating or being mean; he was publicly replacing me while I was still standing in the room.

I sat on the sofa, the remote slipping from my hand. I felt a deep, hollow sadness spreading through my chest. I wasn't just unhappy; I felt erased. Watching my husband on the news with another woman, watching him deny my existence to the whole world, felt like a final blow.

He hadn't just left me at the gate last night. He was leaving me out of his life entirely.

He had humiliated me in private at the club, but now he was doing it publicly. He was building a narrative where I was already gone, replaced by the "childhood friend" who sent fake texts and hissed at me.

I sat in the silence of our empty house, realizing that while I was at home waiting for him, he was already living a life that had no room for me. I was a secret he was ashamed of, a mistake he was waiting to erase. I looked at the phone, half-expecting my friends to call and ask what was going on, but I couldn't move. I just sat there, shivering again, even though the sun was out.