Sabrina Chadwick, my wife of ten years

young man, probably the ninety

b, looked at m

n," he said, his voice loud en

d him towards the elevator, her expres

For the last dec

the day our contractual marriage

ndar, her entire life, so she could build her real estate empire. In exchang

I could make her love me

e guest room door. The sounds weren

er bedroom, wearing a silk robe. Caleb fo

ered, not even looking at me. It was

iving room couch, lookin

No

time in ten ye

narrowing. It was the first time she'

did you

voice calm. "The contract is

harp laugh, a sound de

t be a child. You' re a failed architect who hasn' t worked

d down, her gaze fi

st before you embarra

face. "Come on, Sabrina, don' t be so hard

he immediately softened, her at

cooed, pulling him close.

r her shoulder, a clea

mask. I didn' t feel anger anymore,

s from her college days, the ones she kept in a locked box. Caleb was a near-perfect

with Caleb. She was

irm," I said, my voice cuttin

her face a mixture of

nnections? You' re going to be a laughingstock

e a glorified housekeeper. Caleb here has more artistic tale

. He was wearing a vintage Patek Phil

her dresser just to look at it. She had screamed at me, accusi

s on Caleb

gave it to me. She said it lo

slowly. "It

. He frowned, then turned away. I got up and walked back to the guest r