Greta was still beautiful—sharp brows, striking features, that imperious tilt of her jaw. But the sight of her stirred nothing in me anymore. Only exhaustion.
For nine years she had wielded my love like a weapon, saying whatever she pleased.
She knew. She knew the thing that cut deepest—being swapped at birth, growing up in misery, abandoned by my real family, scorned by the world.
And she brought it up every chance she got.
Melvin Gilbert stepped forward with a smirk. "Victor, you know what they say—a man should have his life together by thirty. You're well past that, and the only reason you have a respectable job is because of Greta. Divorce her, and you'll have nothing."
Greta's expression shifted instantly. She smiled and looped her arm through mine, all sweetness. "Honey, Melvin's right. Don't throw everything away over a moment of pride. We've been married nine years—you know how I feel about you."
"Every decision at the company, big or small, I've handed to you. Every document you sign goes straight to finance for payment. Every product launch, every press conference—you're the one who speaks on my behalf."
"How can you not see what that means?"