The snow fell heavier now, large flakes drifting down to coat the city in white. The streets were filling with people celebrating New Year's Eve, their laughter a stark contrast to the freezing silence between us.
"Oliver, stop making a scene over nothing." Tessa stepped forward, her voice pitching up. "Tell me—where have I failed you? Whatever it is, I'm willing to change."
She clung to my arm, her grip desperate.
I shook her off.
Perhaps I used too much force, or perhaps she was unsteady in her heels—she stumbled and collapsed onto the snowy pavement.
"Oliver!"
Carter rushed forward, scooping her up with exaggerated distress. He turned his glare on me. "You ungrateful leech. Tessa has fed you, clothed you, supported you for five years. This is how you repay her?"
His self-righteous shouting and Tessa's soft, broken sobbing instantly drew a crowd.
Among the onlookers, I recognized several faces—Tessa's subordinates from the company.
"My god, isn't that Director Fletcher? Did I hear that right? Her husband wants a divorce over a snowman?"
"No way. Her husband worships the ground she walks on. He brings her dinner every time she works late."