Chapter 3

3 I sat at the table, slowly eating my dinner, just like our first date.

An hour later, Mark showed up with a cake.

The original writing had been wiped off and there were holes where candles had been. The box was battered and the ribbon was just tossed on.

"They were too busy to decorate a cake. But it's the thought that counts, right?"

I just smiled, not bothering to call him out.

Sarah had posted a picture of the cake on Instagram.

["As an employee, I must maximize value for the boss! And this cake will maximize value tonight!"]

I laughed to myself.

The same cake, two celebrations. That's value, alright.

I stared at the cake, forcing a bitter smile.

"You're right. Thanks for the thought. I don't want the cake, though."

I was filled with frustration, but it was meaningless now.

Mark exploded, throwing the cake on the table. "Are you kidding me? I go out of my way to get you a cake and you're going to throw it in my face?"

"You were being passive-aggressive at home, and now you're doing it here. Amy, when did you get so immature? Is it because I gave Sarah a bonus? She's a star, you know how much she's bringing in! It's pocket change for me! I have to suck up to her, and you're making a big deal out of it? You chased off every other female employee."

"I'm nice to them because of work, it's not personal! Can't you just not be jealous? Get over yourself!"

"Amy, I'm warning you. This ends now."

My heart was ripping apart.

Ten years of marriage, and this was how he saw me.

"Mark, I'm not jealous, and I haven't started anything with anyone. They're always the ones who…"

"Enough! I'm not in the mood for your whining. They're waiting for me."

Mark turned and walked away.

I looked at the messed-up cake, tears running down my face.

When we first married, we were broke and working hard, but we were happy.

Then the company took off, we made money, and things were easy.

But then the fights started over pretty salespeople and receptionists.

He always said he wasn't doing anything wrong and that I was being dramatic.

I just didn't feel secure, and he wouldn't give me that.

Now, I was just tired.

So, so tired.

Guys who've been around the block know the score. All those "accidental mistakes" were only nipped in the bud by my interventions. If I'd let them play out, he'd be over the line in no time.