Betrayal's Sting: A Husband's Reckoning

oom, the silence of the apartment pres

sure if sh

ny parties as "my husband, he tinkers with video games," always with a faint, apologetic smile. The way she never asked about his projects, her eyes glazing

een looking forward to for weeks. He looked at the clock. He couldn' t go. He couldn't f

t up the screen. Missed calls from Mark, from the head of QA, from a dozen people whose names he barely recog

en in the early days, better than anyone. Liam, in his arrogant rush to "modernize" i

the phone, opened his email, and typed a short

t: Resi

It May

resignation from my consulting positio

cer

n Mi

e obligations. No more lat

. But less than ten minutes later, a reply lan

r Et

severance details will be processed accordingly. Please arrange a time t

ga

vate

h. He felt a fresh pang of hurt, sharper than he expected. She didn't even try to stop him. She

him. He stood up, grabbed his keys, and walked out the door. He didn't go to the developer meetup. I

ong. He played until his wrists ached and his pockets were empty of quarters. For the first time in years, he

He pulled up to the house he and Chloe had bought together three years ago. It was a be

ish, minimalist furniture she had picked out suddenly felt

a custom-made pillow with the Innovatech logo embroidered on it. He remembered her excit

hands. He thought about all the sacrifices that had been

s phone and ma

y name is Ethan Miller. I'd lik

e inheritance from his grandparents, before Innovatech had even turned a profit. It was hi