Ten years ago, the deal I personally secured had turned our struggling company into the city's leading enterprise.
But when it came time to divide power, Charles and I had different visions.
I wanted to be a general manager and keep building what I had helped create.
But Charles had already decided my fate for me. He wanted me to step back, to abandon my ambitions and return to being a housewife, the perfect image of a wealthy woman with nothing to do but live in comfort.
In the end, he didn't even ask for my opinion. He simply hired someone new to take over my role, sealing my future with a signature that wasn't mine.
I was furious. But under my mother-in-law's persuasion, I swallowed my resentment and chose to let it go.
From that moment on, something between us quietly broke.
I tried, time and time again, to mend the distance that had formed, but there was always an invisible wall we couldn't break through.
I tried to talk to him, to reach him, but he either brushed me off with work or dismissed me entirely.
"There's nothing wrong. You're overthinking," he would say, his tone carrying no warmth, no patience.
And so, we drifted further apart.