pte

ttered R

idnight under fireworks. Not the man who whispered promises into her hair after long days

eo..." sh

owly. "It's out

hes: the board meeting she'd chaired just hours ago, the PTA group chat s

e had l

t w

t through guilt, but through names faces eve

e just stood there, as if w

lock t

emained dea

oshing past, lives untouched. But ins

or the first time in a long time,

who had wanted her

he room listened. There was something magnetic in his calml like watching a wave build, powerful and inevitable. A corporate lawyer at Harrington & Lo

Polished mahogany desk. Books aligned with militant precision. A single framed photograph his wedding day, caught in that

il Philips thrived on them. He understood the language of leverage, the dance of negotiation. Opposing counsels l

pting not just his body but his control. The courtroom, for Phil Philips was a theatre of logic. He ruled ra

t devotion to his wife, to the family he envisioned but hadn't yet built. Every decision, every overtime ho

iate his feelings. He believed in actions, not words. He offered. He protected. He wa

"He doesn't miss deadlines." "He never mixes pleasure with work." And they were right

commanding. He never lingered in conversations about vacations or Netflix dramas.

His wife's laughter, the way she curled her feet on the couch, the silence between them that once felt

he was beginning to wonder if

at the confidential documents still splayed before him an M&A proposal for a billion-dollar acqu

is phone agai

had grown longer t

junior associate had shown him, thinking it was another scandal to gossip

uilding a case: late nights she claimed were work dinners, the password she changed without r

anted to protect her. Because betrayal wa

to lead the negotiation tomorro

adn't felt in a long time as he observed the ci