Her screen filled with messages, the unread count soaring past 99+. A photo, posted by Cornelia, sat at the top of the feed.
The image showed Luther, shirtless, crouched under a dim light, his hands working intently on exposed wiring. His focused expression was shadowed but unmistakable. Cornelia’s caption read:
“Who else has a boss this dedicated? Lifetime contract, please. Lucky doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
The comments below were no better:
“When did Mr. Harword become that guy? Lucky indeed!”
“Who knew our boss had a soft side? Cornelia, we’re all jealous!”
“Forget Mrs. Harword. I’d take five minutes in your shoes!”
Seraphine stared at the screen, her lips curving into a humorless smirk. The man these people admired was not the one she had spent eight years with. That man had vanished, replaced by a stranger who performed devotion for an audience while leaving her to fade into the background.
Without hesitation, she deleted the chat and exited the group, severing yet another thread tethering her to a past that no longer existed.