Warren came home and told me he'd been let go from the company where he'd worked for three years.
"Restructuring," he said. "They had to make cuts."
I didn't think twice. I held him, stroked his back, tried to comfort him.
"Their loss," I murmured. "Someone as capable as you? Companies will be fighting over you."
I believed every word.
Until a young woman showed up at my door.
She was younger than me—mid-twenties, maybe. Pretty, in an unassuming way. But her eyes were old. Tired.
"You're Warren Gilbert's wife, aren't you?"
I nodded, something cold settling in my chest.
"I couldn't stand by and watch you keep being deceived." She took a breath. "So I came to tell you the truth."
Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled slightly at her sides.
"Your husband didn't resign. He wasn't laid off either. He was fired." She met my gaze. "Because when we were on a business trip together, he tried to force himself on me. I fought back. I reported him. Made enough noise that the company had no choice but to let him go."
She paused, something like pity flickering across her face.