I Left During His Honeymoon
When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me.
Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!"
Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic.
Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket.
Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?"
Right.
I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded.
Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back.
Too bad I'd already quit.
Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers.
We were done.