EX HUSBANDS BOSS FOR VALENTINE

MELANIA'S POV:

I sit on the edge of the bed, my hands clenched in my lap, watching Brady stand in front of the mirror. His focus is entirely on the tie he knots, as if I'm invisible. It's been almost twenty-four hours since we arrived at the hotel, and he hasn't said a word to me. I know today is important to him, career-wise, but how can he forget what it means to us?

The silence crushes me, and I keep watching the way he struggles with the tie-so focused on something so trivial while everything between us slips through his fingers. After a few more long moments, I force myself to stand, breathing through the panic in my chest.

"Let me help you," I say softly, stepping closer.

Brady pauses, his hands dropping away from the tie. He doesn't meet my eyes-he focuses on his reflection in the mirror. I take the tie from him, my fingers trembling as I tuck it into the loop he's made.

"There," I say, trying to muster a smile. He offers me a forced smile in return, which makes my heart sink. "Do you know what today is, love?" I ask quietly as I adjust the tie and rest my hands on his shoulders, praying he'll remember.

For a moment, his brows crease, and I think maybe he'll remember.

But then, with a casual shrug, he says, "It's the day I close the biggest deal of my career. The deal that'll get me the promotion I deserve." My throat tightens, but I manage to smile through the sting. I slide my arms around his neck, pressing my body into his, filling the cold distance between us.

"You should think harder, love," I whisper. I feel him stiffen beneath my touch. Without warning, he pulls away from me, his face contorting in disgust.

"I don't have time for your games, Melania," he snaps in an irritated voice. "If you want to tag along tonight, meet me downstairs in ten minutes. And stay quiet. I don't need you embarrassing me!" He is practically yelling at this point.

Without looking back, he walks out, slamming the door with a deafening bang. The world blurs, tears gathering in my eyes as I sink onto the stool in front of the vanity. The woman staring back at me feels so foreign now. This isn't the woman I gave Brady. This is the woman he molded-no, broke. She was whole before him, but now she's just a shadow of herself.

One year. That's how long I've been married to him. He's no longer the Brady I met in college, the one who wouldn't leave me alone, the one who made me feel seen. Now, I'm just a shadow in my home. He's made it clear I'm not meant to know anything about his business. My only purpose is to be beautiful and silent, to bear his children. But I haven't conceived. No matter how many nights I've endured his advances, my body refuses to give him the child he demands. And he never lets me forget it. Worthless. That's what he calls me.

When I suggest seeing a doctor together, his answer is cold and dismissive.

"I don't need a hospital tarnishing my image," he says. "Once they see me in there, the tabloids will say I'm impotent." And so I remain, stuck in this silent, suffocating role-needing him to love me, needing him to see me, but knowing I'm nothing more than a decoration to him now. Just his mute, beautiful, and hidden wife. He never takes me to any of his events, but today I insist because of our anniversary, which I thought we would celebrate together with his 'big' achievement. "You can't cry, Melania," I say to myself as I wipe the tears staining my eyes.

**

The car ride suffocates me. I sit silently in the back seat, while Brady scrolls through his phone in the front. Not a word passes between us, and soon we arrive at the venue. Brady steps out first, buttoning his blazer. I follow him, and he marches forward like he didn't come to the event with me.

As we enter the sky-tall building, his lips curve into a smile, and I spot a woman standing near the entrance. I freeze as I recognize her.

"You look beautiful," the words I crave leave Brady's mouth, but they are not for me. Before me, he takes Portia's hands, planting a kiss on the back of her palms.