Chapter 2

2.

Grant came home around two or three in the morning.

He instinctively glanced at the entryway and the nightstand, but tonight, the things I used to prepare for him were gone. Even the living room light was off.

For the past five years of our marriage, no matter how late Grant came home, I would always wait up for him, with everything ready.

Flicking on the living room light, Grant found me curled up on the sofa.

"Why are you sleeping out here so late? I've told you, you don't have to wait up for me." Seeing the familiar scene, Grant seemed to relax, but his brow quickly furrowed again.

He had said that, and he didn't like me waiting up. But I was sleeping on the sofa tonight for a simple reason: all my things in the bedroom were packed. The bare mattress was far less comfortable than the sofa.

"It's late. Go take a shower and get some sleep." Seeing Grant walk towards me, smelling the heavy scent of alcohol on him, I frowned and shifted to the other end of the sofa.

All those countless nights of waiting for him had made him forget that I hated the smell of smoke and alcohol more than anything.

Grant's hand, which had been reaching for me, paused mid-air, surprised that I'd moved away.

"I really had an emergency at the office today, I couldn't get back to you. Tomorrow, I promise I'll see that movie with you. Happy now?"

I just smiled and shook my head. "It doesn't matter. You do you."

"Eleanor, I don't have time to argue with you. Don't push it."

My indifferent attitude instantly turned his tone to ice. I was used to it. No matter how much I used to beg and plead, it always ended with him saying, "I don't have time to argue with you."

And today, I couldn't be bothered to argue with him either.

"No time to argue with me, but plenty of time to drive someone else home."

I said it thoughtfully, looking into his cold eyes.

Hearing this, a flicker of shock crossed Grant's perpetually stoic face.

"The storm was awful the other day, that's why I gave Jenna a ride home. Eleanor, can you think about anything other than being jealous for once?"

With that, Grant stormed off into his bedroom.

I stared at his retreating back, stunned for a moment.

I don't think I even said the name "Jenna."

I had wanted to wait for him to come home to have a serious talk about the divorce. It seemed now wasn't the right time.

I glanced at the divorce papers sitting on the coffee table. I decided it was better to wait until I found a new apartment.

The next day.

As soon as I got to the office, I got a call from HR: I was to go to the CEO's office.

The moment I walked in, I saw Jenna leaning intimately against Grant's desk. Grant stood beside her, one hand on her arm.

"Oh, Eleanor, you're here." Jenna feigned surprise. "I was just feeling a little dizzy, and Grant was helping me. You're not… mad, are you?"

The old me would have flown into a rage at this scene, probably starting a huge fight with Grant.

But now, I just didn't care.

"If you're dizzy, you should eat something. Why was I called up here?"

Grant seemed surprised by my reaction. He seemed to swallow the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

"It's nothing. There's a company charity gala tonight. You should… get ready."

As I turned to leave, Grant suddenly spoke up.

"I have plans tonight, so I won't be attending," I said, waving a hand dismissively and walking out before he could say another word.

I used to beg him to go to these events with me. At first, Grant would complain that I was too quiet at parties and brought everyone down. Then, when I tried to be more social, he'd accuse me of not knowing anything and embarrassing him by saying the wrong things.

Eventually, no matter how much I pleaded, Grant refused to take me to these galas anymore.

But today, he invited me himself.

When it was time to leave work, I had my things packed and ready to go. But I couldn't avoid him. Grant cornered me at the company entrance.

"Let's go. It's just a small investor dinner. It won't take up too much of your time."

And just like that, Grant dragged me down to the underground parking garage.

When I instinctively reached for the passenger door, I realized Jenna was already sitting there, expertly touching up her makeup in the sun visor mirror.

"Oh, Eleanor, I'm so sorry. I get a little carsick, so I sat up here. Maybe… I should switch with you now?" she said, but didn't move an inch.

Before she could finish, I opened the back door and slid in.

The old me would have thrown a fit over this seat. But now? Whoever wanted the front seat could have it. I wouldn't care if he had a pig sitting there.

The dinner was, indeed, small. The guests were all Grant's business partners and investors.

I trailed behind Grant, watching as he effortlessly mingled, raised his glass, and exchanged pleasantries. It seemed following behind him had become a habit.

Jenna, on the other hand, had naturally positioned herself by his side the moment we got out of the car. They looked more like the couple.

"Mr. Copeland is certainly full of energy, bringing his executive assistant even to a dinner party," one investor said with a smile, raising his glass and looking at me.

Among the guests were a few of Grant's long-time partners. One of them quietly interjected, "Oh, the one in the back is Mrs. Copeland. The one next to him is his assistant."

Though it was a whisper, most people at the event heard it.

Suddenly, the atmosphere became awkward and silent.

"Oh, she's Mrs. Copeland? I always thought Ms. Skye was his wife. I've been in so many meetings, I just assumed…"

"It's not Ms. Skye? Mr. Copeland and Ms. Skye attend every business function together."

Perhaps hearing the whispers, or just worried I would cause a scene, Grant suddenly grabbed my hand.

"Jenna is my executive assistant. Sometimes she needs to handle things at these events. Don't get the wrong idea."

"I'm not getting the wrong idea."

"I know you must think…"

"I said, I'm not getting the wrong idea!"

I yanked my hand away. I was just so tired of his pathetic excuses.

"I don't feel well. I'm going to the restroom."