The Woman With Nothing to Offer

I didn’t answer Nina right away.

For some reason, I kept staring at the basket of clean clothes beside me instead, as if one of Ethan’s neatly folded shirts might tell me what I was supposed to say.

“You’re sure you heard her correctly?” I asked.

“I was standing close enough, Sera.”

Nina sounded uncomfortable now. I could hear office noise behind her—phones ringing, someone laughing somewhere nearby.

“What exactly did Camille say?”

Nina was quiet for a second.

“She asked one of the assistants why Ethan was still married to a woman who had nothing to offer him.”

I stopped folding the shirt in my hands.

Nothing to offer.

It shouldn’t have bothered me. Camille didn’t know me. She didn’t know anything about my life before Ethan, and she certainly didn’t know about the Vale family.

Still, the words found somewhere tender.

“What did the assistant say?”

“She looked uncomfortable and changed the subject.”

“And Camille?”

“She laughed. Then she said Ethan had always been too loyal for his own good.”

I let out a short breath.

“That’s interesting.”

“Sera.”

“What?”

“You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“The calm voice.”

Despite myself, I smiled.

“I have one voice.”

“No, you don’t. You have your normal voice, and then you have the one you use when you’re upset but pretending you’re not.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Exactly that voice.”

I laughed this time.

Nina had known me too long.

“I’m fine,” I told her. “Camille can think whatever she wants.”

“I just don’t like the way she talks about you.”

“She doesn’t know me.”

“That doesn’t stop people from judging.”

Unfortunately, that was true.

Margaret had been doing it for years.

After we ended the call, I finished the laundry and tried to put Camille out of my head.

It worked for almost an hour.

Then Ethan called.

“Sera, are you home?”

“I live here, remember?”

He chuckled. “Very funny.”

“What did you forget?”

There was a pause.

“How did you know I forgot something?”

“Because you only call before lunch when you’ve forgotten something.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“Very.”

He laughed again, and for a moment things felt normal between us.

“There’s a black flash drive beside the computer in my study. Can you check?”

I walked into the study and found it near a stack of documents.

“Found it.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“You say that every time you lose something.”

“Because you keep finding everything.”

I turned the flash drive between my fingers.

“Do you need it now?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I can bring it.”

“You don’t have to come all the way here.”

“It’s fine. I need groceries anyway.”

He thanked me, and we ended the call.

Rowe Innovations looked different every time I visited.

Ethan’s first office had been so small that opening one cabinet blocked the door. Now his company occupied several floors of a glass building in the business district.

I stood in the lobby for a moment, looking around.

There were employees carrying laptops, visitors checking in at reception, and Ethan’s company logo displayed behind a polished marble desk.

I felt proud.

I couldn’t help it.

Whatever was happening between us, Ethan had worked hard for this place.

“Mrs. Rowe?”

I turned.

The woman walking toward me didn’t need an introduction.

Camille Laurent was beautiful in a way that looked carefully effortless. Blonde hair fell neatly over her shoulders, and her cream blouse fit perfectly with the dark skirt she wore.

She smiled before stopping in front of me.

“Seraphina?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Camille.”

“I figured.”

Something flashed in her eyes, but her smile stayed in place.

“So we finally meet.”

I held out my hand.

She shook it.

Her grip was light.

“Ethan has mentioned you,” she said.

“Good things, I hope.”

Camille laughed. “Of course.”

I couldn’t tell whether I liked her answer.

Her eyes dropped toward the small envelope in my hand.

“Did Ethan forget something again?”

“A flash drive.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “He still does that.”

There was nothing offensive about the sentence.

Still, the word still caught my attention.

“You remember?”

“We grew up together. Ethan was always forgetting school papers and leaving things at my house.”

She spoke warmly, almost fondly.

I nodded. “Some habits really don’t change.”

“No, they don’t.”

For a few seconds, neither of us said anything.

Then Camille glanced at my dress.

It was an inexpensive one I had bought two years ago. Comfortable. Plain. Nothing special.

“I heard you don’t work anymore,” she said.

“I take care of the house.”

“That must be nice.”

I looked at her.

“Nice?”

“You know what I mean. No office stress. No deadlines. No difficult clients.”

Her tone was friendly enough that I almost wondered if I was imagining the judgment beneath it.

Almost.

“There are different kinds of stress,” I said.

Camille tilted her head.

“I suppose.”

The elevator doors opened before the conversation could go any further.

Ethan stepped out.

When he saw us together, he slowed.

“Sera?”

I lifted the envelope.

“You forgot this.”

His face relaxed.

“Right. Thank you.”

He came over and took it from me.

Camille smiled at him. “Your wife and I were finally getting acquainted.”

Ethan looked between us.

“Should I be worried?”

“Probably,” I said.

He laughed.

That small sound eased some of the tension in my shoulders.

I looked at him. “Are you coming home for dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Actually,” Camille said, then stopped.

Ethan looked at her.

“What?”

She seemed almost embarrassed.

“I thought we were still having dinner with the old group tonight.”

I looked at Ethan.

His expression changed.

Not guilt exactly.

More like someone who had remembered an appointment too late.

“You already have plans?” I asked.

“It’s just some old friends.”

“You forgot?”

“I did.”

Camille gave a little shrug. “We can cancel.”

I didn’t look at her.

I kept my eyes on Ethan.

“You told me you’d be home.”

“I will be.”

“What time?”

He hesitated.

That was enough.

I nodded.

“Go to dinner.”

“Sera, I can skip it.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Then why are you angry?”

“I’m not angry.”

He gave me the same look Nina had earlier.

Apparently, nobody believed me today.

I picked up my bag.

“I need to get groceries.”

Ethan touched my arm.

“Hey.”

I looked at him.

“I’ll come home early,” he said.

“Okay.”

I wanted to believe him.

Maybe that was becoming my problem.

I walked toward the elevator.

Just before the doors closed, I looked back.

Camille was already saying something to Ethan.

He leaned closer to hear her.

It was an ordinary moment.

Nothing inappropriate.

Nothing I could accuse either of them of.

And yet, all the way home, I kept thinking about Camille’s words.

A woman who had nothing to offer him.

For years, I had never cared that the Rowes believed that.

For the first time, I wondered if Ethan had started believing it too.