Made Me Avoid Suspicion Five Years I Divorced Him—Why Cry

At the company dinner, the new intern suddenly stood up and confessed to my husband in front of everyone. We'd been secretly married for three years.

She didn't spare a thought for me, the underground girlfriend who had hidden it from everyone for five years.

For five years on the job, Burton Sanchez said we had to avoid the appearance of favoritism. He wouldn't even say more than a few words to me.

Now, without a shred of that caution, he pulled the intern into his arms.

When the dinner ended, he was the one who took the drunk, staggering intern home, half-carrying her the whole way.

An hour later, a message came through explaining himself.

"The girl's sensitive. Getting turned down in front of everyone would have humiliated her."

"She threw up all over herself after I got her home. I'll be back later. Be good."

But Burton never came home that night.

The next day, the intern was promoted three levels and became my direct superior.

I handed in my resignation on the spot.

Burton brushed it off and pushed it right back at me.

"Promoting Genevieve Harding was a decision the board made together. Don't read into it."

"You've been number one in sales for five years, that's true. But to avoid any appearance of favoritism, I can't say much."

I looked at him quietly, and it struck me as absurd.

He was the one who recruited me back then, promising that once the appearance-of-favoritism period passed, he'd promote me on my own merit.

And now he was the one keeping me, the top performer year after year, stepping aside to make room for an intern.

Maybe because I didn't make the scene he'd expected, something like surprise flickered across that cool, aloof face of his.

"Be good. I'll push for your promotion next time."

He didn't know there wouldn't be a next time.

I forced the tears back down, said nothing, and turned back to my desk.

I sent a message straight to the chairman of Sanchez Group's largest supplier.

"I accept the offer. That Sanchez Group projectgive it to me to handle."

Half an hour later, Burton walked over and handed me a hot latte.

I froze for a second. In five years, this was the first time he'd handed me anything directly, without the usual caution.

Something in me softened despite myself.

Then, the next second, Genevieve poked her head out from behind him, tugging at his sleeve.

"To celebrate my promotion to Director, Mr. Sanchez is buying lattes for everyone."

I went stiff. So the latte he gave me was just part of the round.

"Ursula Winfield's taught me the most, so Mr. Sanchez brought yours over himself."

Burton nodded as if it were only natural.

"That's right. You're the senior one here, so you'll keep running the project. Just send the approvals to Director Harding."

Which meant I'd keep doing the work, but the credit would go to Genevieve.

The latte in my hand suddenly felt hot enough to burn my palm.

It just felt absurd. So the first time he dropped the caution wasn't to comfort me.

It was to press me into doing another woman's work.

Seeing I said nothing, Genevieve put on a wounded little pout.

"Ursula, don't you want to help me celebrate? Maybe I should just give the promotion back to you."

Burton patted her hand, his voice going soft.

"The board's already decided. It won't change. And no one's giving anything back to you."

"Sit tight in your position. Anything you don't understand, I'll teach you myself."

He turned to me, and his tone went cold in an instant.

"Don't think seniority means you can defy your supervisor."

"Drink the latte and apologize to Director Harding."

All I'd done was not drink that latte.

All I'd done was refuse to cover for Genevieve and clean up her messes.

Yet somehow I'd committed some unforgivable crime.

My chest closed up until I could barely breathe, but I didn't back down.

"I didn't do anything wrong. And I don't want the latte."

Burton's face darkened further. As if by accident, he touched the side of his waist.

"Think again. Are you sure you did nothing wrong?"

The blood drained from my face.

When we'd first gotten together, there was a car accident. Burton had shoved me out of the way with everything he had.

He was thrown two meters, took over a dozen stitches in his side, and barely made it out alive.

I collapsed crying at his bedside, and he'd said, face white as paper,

"Silly. It's my honor to protect you. Thank god it was me that got hit."

Now he was reminding me it was time to repay that debt.

Time to trample my dignity so Genevieve could establish her authority.

"Fine. I'll drink it."

I let out a bitter laugh, lifted the latte, and tipped my head back to drink.

Genevieve cut in again, holding out a glass of iced lemon tea with a bright smile.

"I just rememberedI'm on my period, I can't have anything cold."

"Ursula, could you switch with me?"

It was a naked provocation, hinting that I was just jealous and petty.

Burton looked at me, opening his mouth as if to speak, then stopping.

It seemed we'd both remembered I was allergic to lemon.

I'd once drunk a glass of lemonade he bought without thinking, and ended up in the hospital getting my stomach pumped.

After that, anything with lemon in it was banned in our home.

I looked at him with one last flicker of hope.

He turned his head and avoided my eyes.

Still, he didn't stop it.

The last string inside me snapped.

Fine. If he wanted me to repay the debt, then I'd repay it all at once.

I took the iced lemon tea and drained it in one go.

Genevieve pulled Burton away, satisfied.

"Looks like you're very happy about my promotion too, Ursula. I'll be sure to look after you from now on."

The coworkers watching whispered among themselves.

"Mr. Sanchez turns Genevieve down out loud, but look how he dotes on her."

"Not like that one. No one backing her, five years of hard work, all of it sewn into someone else's wedding dress."

Wiping at lips that had already started to go numb, it suddenly came clear to me.

So when Burton truly favored someone, he didn't bother avoiding any appearance at all. The whole world knew he doted on her.

A message from Burton came in.

"Don't read into it. I was just avoiding favoritism just now, backing what's right, not who's close to me."

"Don't worry. I ordered antihistamines using your phone number."

I let out a cold laugh and closed the chat.

Then I lowered my head and typed carefully to a lawyer.

"Please draft divorce papers for me. I need them today."

My throat started to swell, and my neck began to itch.

Something was wrong. Badly wrong. This allergic reaction was coming on far too hard.

But by the time I understood how bad it was, my mind was already going hazy and every breath came harder than the last.

Genevieve tossed a stack of files at me.

"Mr. Sanchez is training me himself today, so I'll leave all these to you, Ursula."

When I stayed hunched over and said nothing, she shoved me.

I went straight to the floor, face bloodless, gulping for air.

Burton came bursting out of his office and ran toward me in long strides, and I reached out to him on instinct.

But Genevieve, her little face gone pale, gave his sleeve a light tug.

"Mr. Sanchez, I really didn't touch her."

Burton stopped dead. He was quiet for a moment, then smoothed his hand over her hair.

"Don't be scared."

My outstretched hand fell weakly back down, and everything sank into an endless dark.

When I came to again, I was in the maternity ward.

A nurse came over when she saw I was awake.

"Stop looking. No one came for you. Some woman said anyone who took leave would lose their bonus, so nobody showed up."

"That boss of yours wanted to come himself. One look from that woman and he changed his mind and told you to come on your own."

I closed my eyes. Even a heart already numb could still feel that.

The doctor came over.

"Do you know what triggered the allergy?"

"Iced lemon tea. I'm allergic to lemon."

The doctor sucked in a sharp breath.

"You knew, and you still drank it? Ten more minutes and you wouldn't have made it here alive."

"I'm sorry. It was never this severe before."

The doctor was in no mood.

"Is now the same as before? Do you even know you're pregnant?"

"Women in early pregnancy are more sensitive. Allergic reactions hit much harder."

I froze, my hand drifting to my belly without thinking.

Seeing how stunned I was, the doctor's expression softened.

"The allergy has brought on a threatened miscarriage, but we'll do everything we can to save it."

"By the way, where's your family? Letting a pregnant woman check in alone is really something."

Family? Probably still at the office, working. Because... we had to avoid the appearance of impropriety.

"Thank you, doctor. But please schedule me for the miscarriage procedure as soon as possible."

At noon the nurse was kind enough to bring me a boxed lunch from the hospital.

I ate while scrolling, and Genevieve's post came up.

"Working hard, poor me. Thanks to boss for treating me to a homemade work lunch~"

The photo was of the very restaurant I'd always wanted to go to, with Burton attentively setting her place.

Coworkers had left teasing comments.

"My ship is sailing! Mr. Sanchez is so sweet to her!"

"If that's not going official, what is? I'll drag the marriage office over here for you two myself!"

Burton had liked it right below, not caring who saw.

I touched my belly, and the rice in my mouth suddenly tasted bitter.

For five years, to avoid the appearance of impropriety, he had watched with cold eyes while people drank me under the table at business dinners, refused to let me ride home in his car even in a downpour, and held down my promotions again and again.

I'd never thought any of it was strange.

Not until Genevieve joined the company did I learn that appearances only mattered with certain people.

Some people, the moment they appeared, could break every one of Burton's rules.

He could accept her confession in front of everyone, break his own rules to jump her three levels, let the whole company see how he favored her.

That afternoon, half an hour before the procedure, Burton finally showed up.

He touched my forehead with concern, confirming I was all right, as if I were someone who mattered to him.

Something in me stirred. I held out the pregnancy report.

"Burton, I'm preg"

"Ursula, if you're fine, why did you make such a scene? People will think Genevieve bullied you."

I choked, the words jammed in my throat.

So he hadn't come because he cared about me. He'd come to hold court for Genevieve.

"You're a grown woman. Don't stoop to a young girl's level. Come back to the office and explain yourself to everyone."

"Right, what were you going to say?"

He reached for the pregnancy report.

I pulled my hand back and tucked the report under me.

"Nothing. It's not anything important."

He didn't press. He just tucked the edge of my blanket in and hurried off.

The next moment, the nurse changed me into a sterile gown and wheeled me into the operating room.

If he hadn't forced me to drink that iced lemon tea.

If he'd brought me to the hospital right away.

If he'd noticed this was the maternity ward and asked one more question.

If he hadn't come in demanding answers instead of hearing me out first.

Then this child, I thought, would have been the last chance between him and me.

But he didn't.

Maybe this was just fate.

The anesthetic went in, and once again I lost all consciousness.

Coming out of the operating room, the allergy on top of the miscarriage had left me utterly drained.

By the time I got home, I could barely stand.

I steadied myself against the doorframe as I stepped inside, and saw the table already covered with dishes.

I stared for a moment. Burton had never cooked before, and here he'd made a whole spread.

Something in me warmed a little. I dragged my exhausted body over to wash my hands and sat down at the table.

Hearing me, Burton came out of the kitchen still wearing his apron.

He looked me up and down and didn't ask how I was recovering.

"Hold on. Don't eat yet."

A question mark flashed through my mind, and then a soft, coquettish voice drifted out from the bathroom off the master bedroom.

"Burton, can you hand me my nightgown?"

The chopsticks dropped from my fingers to the floor.

Burton went to pass her the nightgown, smiling, then came back and warned me under his breath.

"Genevieve's rental is getting torn down, so she's staying with us a few days. Don't give her attitude."

Genevieve walked out of the bathroom,

wearing the new silk nightgown I'd bought for our third wedding anniversary.

My eyes moved over the two of them,

and I didn't so much as blink. I only tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"You bring another woman into my home, let her use my bathroom, wear my nightgown."

"Burton, how can you be this disgusting?"

As if my words had wounded her, tears sprang into Genevieve's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ursula, I just had nowhere else to go."

"Maybe I should just leave."

She bit her lip, grabbed her suitcase and made a show of leaving,

then swayed on her feet, unsteady.

Burton caught her at once. "Where would you go this late?"

Genevieve lowered her eyes, her voice dropping very low.

"Anywhere is fine. I don't want to upset Ursula."

Burton looked at me, exasperation in his eyes.

"It's just a few days. Can't you stop being so petty?"

My chest went tight.

He'd forced me to drink that lemon tea, I'd had an allergic reaction and lost the baby, he'd marched her into my home like the lady of the house, and now he was turning it around and calling me petty.

I looked at the table full of dishes. Every one of them was spicy.

Burton never ate spicy food. After we got together, I'd cut chili out almost entirely to suit his taste.

And now here he was, cooking a whole table of spicy dishes for another woman.

My lower belly still ached, a sharp reminder that a small life had just left it.

Suddenly I had no interest in fighting him over any of it.

I pushed back the chair and stood.

"I'm done eating. Help yourselves."

He froze, as if he hadn't expected me to give in so easily.

I went back to the bedroom and lay down. Genevieve's soft crying came through the door.

"Burton, Ursula wasn't happy about my promotion, and now she must hate me even more."

"I know I shouldn't have come, but besides you, I don't know who else to turn to."

Burton's voice went very gentle.

"If she's not happy, that's her being small-minded. It has nothing to do with you."

"This is my house. Just settle in and don't worry."

I clutched the blanket, my fingertips tightening bit by bit.

I don't know how long it was before the sound of Burton pushing the door open woke me from a dead sleep.

I propped myself up and handed him the divorce agreement I'd printed on the way home.

He took it and signed without even a glance.

As if he were rewarding me for not making a scene tonight, for not humiliating Genevieve.

"You're not going to read it?"

"No need. Aren't you being good tonight, wife."

He leaned in to kiss me. I covered my belly and turned my head away.

"Don't. I find it filthy."

The next morning, the three of us left for the office together.

In the elevator, Genevieve turned to me all warmth and invitation.

"Would you like to ride in with Burton, Ursula?"

The tone of the lady of the house, as if she were the one married to Burton Sanchez.

Burton opened his mouth, then closed it, as though terrified I might actually say yes.

For five years, after all, he'd never once let me ride in his car. Avoiding the appearance of impropriety.

I shook my head and turned her down, my face blank.

He let out a breath and pressed the button for the parking level.

I ran into the two of them again outside the building.

Genevieve climbed out of the passenger seat, and Burton, carrying her bag, smiled as he closed the car door for her.

I walked straight into the lobby without so much as a glance their way.

Burton actually came after me and grabbed my shoulder.

"What's with the act? Pretending you can't see me?"

I pried his fingers off one by one.

"Avoiding the appearance of impropriety."

He froze, and let go.

Back at my desk, I submitted my resignation again.

The company's org chart on the app had already been updated.

As a rank-and-file employee, my resignation only needed sign-off from Genevieve and HR.

Genevieve called me into her office and felt me out carefully.

"You really want to leave?"

"Drag your feet on the approval and maybe I'll change my mind."

Genevieve tapped "Approve Resignation" on the spot.

"Then I'll fast-track you, Ursula. Wrap up your handover today and you're free to go."

I nodded. That suited me fine.

The morning passed without a ripple, but in the afternoon a message blew up in the company group chat.

The contract sent to Harmony International yesterday had an error in it. The loss came to three million.

Minutes later, Burton came out holding the contract and slammed it down on my desk.

"Look what you've done!"

I stared for a second, then picked it up and opened it.

"This wasn't me. I had an allergic reaction yesterday and wasn't in the office. Director Harding was the one handling this contract."

Genevieve bit her lip, and the tears came.

"I know you can't stand that I got promoted, Ursula, but you didn't have to do this..."

"Harmony International is everything Mr. Sanchez and the whole team have poured their hearts into..."

Coworkers who had no idea what was going on crowded around.

Burton looked at me, cold, nothing warm left in his eyes.

"Something goes wrong and all you do is dodge the blame and talk your way out of it. Are you using your seniority to bully the new girl?"

That one line all but settled the matter. He'd handed down my death sentence.

My head snapped up. So he was dead set on making me take the fall.

Still unwilling to let it go, I looked at Burton and said it slowly, one word at a time.

"Five years here and I've never made a mistake like this. I didn't do it, and I won't own it."

His voice wasn't loud, but everyone could hear it.

"You're suspended as of now. Wait for further notice."

The whispers came from every direction.

"Does it matter who did it? Mr. Sanchez is set on protecting his girlfriend."

"Mr. Sanchez really doesn't care about keeping up appearances, does he."

I kept packing my things, face blank, but something clamped down hard in my chest.

Three years of a secret marriage, five years of a hidden romance, number one in performance every year since he poached me into this company, and this was how it ended, suspended. How absurd.

Once HR signed off, I didn't waste a moment, gathering my personal things and walking out of the building.

As I left the place I'd spent five years in, a message from Burton came through on WeChat.

"Genevieve just got promoted. She can't have a major slip-up like this on her record."

"Take one for the team this time and keep the peace. The next promotion is yours."

Burton's smug, self-satisfied face flashed in front of me.

I laughed.

I didn't bother typing a reply. I just opened his profile and tapped the corner.

Block.

Then I pulled the old SIM card out of my phone and tossed it into the trash can beside me.

......