Jennie

It's hard to remember what my life was like before this. I know I was a married woman with a big house and that I went for years without being touched by Lisa Manoban, but somehow all of that seems like a bad dream.

I silence the dreary little voice that warns me how easily I can fuck this up and lose it at a moment's notice. It shuts up faster with each passing day, as if it wants to believe this can last forever.

Forever, I think as I enter my apartment and turn on the hallway lights. There's a dangerous word. I look at my left hand and its naked ring finger. When Taehyung had put a two-carat diamond solitaire on it, followed by a wedding band, I'd said forever then, too. The concept doesn't exist. Nothing lasts forever.

I could use a martini. I'm still warm and thrilled from my orgasm—felt it between my legs during the whole drive here—and I want a drink to finish a rather good day. Kisses in my office, an orgasm in my car, and a soft feeling in my chest whenever I think about my assistant. Yes, it's stupid. It's also a bit wonderful.

I've never felt like this before, where every part of me scintillates while I'm around another person. I never thought such a feeling could be real, much less mine. I'll chastise myself for it tomorrow, remind myself that she's young and has a whole life beyond her job, that she's out having fun with people her own age, where anything could happen. For tonight, I just want to bask in feeling good.

As I'm settling down into my armchair, martini in one hand and feet on the ottoman, my cell phone rings.

I groan. Unless it's Lisa, I don't want to talk to anyone tonight. Unfortunately, it's Taehyung.

I don't answer. Seulgi, my lawyer, has suggested I not communicate privately with Taehyunv while mediation is in process. He and his lawyer both agreed, and breaking the pact doesn't seem like a good idea right now. It's the time of day when Taehyung drinks, and he drinks more than a single martini before bed.

The phone stops ringing. I exhale and try to enjoy my drink, but soon I get a text. It's Taehyunv again. He must have had a few.

You need to call me, Jennie. There's something we must discuss ASAP.

I blink. That doesn't sound very drunk, and it's not Taehyung's usual M.O. when he's being sneaky or underhanded. Why would he be? Our divorce has been equitable so far. Maybe there's an emergency.

I sigh and call him.

He picks up immediately. "Jennie. Glad you got my text."

"What's the matter?"

"Skipping the preamble, as always. Just as well. We've got a problem. Or I should say…" A pause. "You've got a problem."

I immediately go on alert. "What are you talking about?"

"I know you're having an affair."

My heart stops and my fingertips grow cold. Before I can come up with something smarter, I blurt out, "That's ridiculous."

"I'm afraid it's not, sweetheart." Both condescension and anger edge his voice. The voice that once promised me forever, too. "You're not as discreet as you think."

I've already lied. I need to stick to it until Taehyung gives me a reason to switch gears. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"No? That's okay. The private investigator I hired has a pretty good idea."

The cold sweeps up from my fingertips throughout my whole body.

Taehyung takes my silence for the confirmation it is. "So does my eyewitness."

My voice cracks. "Your what? You hired a PI to follow me around? Have you lost your mind?"

"I knew something was up." He sounds grim. "You think I don't know you, but I do. You were acting off when you dropped the bomb. And you were…distracted…for a while. Something was wrong, I just didn't know what. So I hired a guy, and what do you know? He learns you've got someone on the side."

My hand is shaking so much that the martini is in danger of sloshing out. I set it on the floor and fight to keep my voice steady. "And does he have proof of this?"

"Nothing too explicit." Taehyung sounds remarkably calm for a man who doesn't have an airtight case. "No photos of you in bed or anything. But if you ask me, there's enough to make a case for adultery."

"Adultery!" I sit up straight. "There was no such thing." One make-out session in an elevator doesn't count, does it? Lisa and I didn't actually have sex until I'd given Taehyung the news and moved out of the house.

"There's such a thing now, isn't there?"

"That's none of your business." I dig my fingernails into the leather arm of the chair. "Nothing happened while we were married."

"We're still married," he points out.

"Separated," I snap. "I didn't cheat on you, Taehyung." At least, not in a way he can prove. Shower fantasies aren't admissible evidence in court.

"Jennie, you can try to save yourself with every technical detail in the book—and I'm sure you could manage it. You're a hell of a lawyer. But technicalities aren't where I've got you."

"Oh? And where have you got me?"

"It's your assistant," he says. "What's-her-face. The blonde."

The bottom seems to fall out of my world. I clutch at my collar. All the air in the room has mysteriously vanished.

Of course he knows—if the PI told Taehyung I'm having an affair, he'd have told him who it was with—and yet I've never felt so shocked and betrayed in my life.

"I should have guessed something was wrong with you. You were always such a cold fish in bed." His jeering tone tells me he's done holding back. "Now I know why."

Nothing's wrong with me, I want to say, and can't. "No."

"Were you doing it the whole time? With women?" A derisive chuckle. "I'd almost like to have seen that."

He would have, the pig. "No! And stop it!"

"I don't need proof." He snorts. "Just the allegation alone would be enough to stop you in your tracks, and you know it. You know what everyone would say."

Jennie, are you gay?

"No," I repeat, a whisper of denial.

"I want everything. No contest. I want the full proceeds of the sale of the house and all our other mutually acquired assets."

Taehyung and I bought the house fifty-fifty, along with most of the things in it. In fact, when Seulgi looked at the records, she discovered I spent a little more. What he proposes is monstrously unfair. "Taehyung!"

"That's the deal. You think you deserve a better one? After dogging on me with a woman?" His voice drops into a growl of disgust. "You used me. I was never—"

"No, I—"

"—your husband. I was your beard. And you'll pay for it. Literally."

"I didn't," I rasp. My fingers are cramping from how hard I'm clenching the chair arm. "Taehyung, I did not."

"I don't even care anymore. If you don't want me to spread it far and wide that you're fucking a twenty-year-old girl—"

Twenty-five, I don't say. And she fucks me, I don't say.

"You'll agree to my terms. Unless you want the world to know about your little blonde toy."

The word ignites me. Lisa's nobody's toy, certainly not mine—how dare he think that, how dare he presume to know what she means to me—

"I'm giving you the weekend to think about it. But I don't think you'll need that long." He sucks in a sharp breath. "Nobody makes a fool of me."

The phone goes dead.

I stare at the screen, numb from the inside out. Someone please tell me this is a nightmare.

A private investigator. An eyewitness. Who? How?

Right this second, none of it seems relevant. I don't need proof. Just the allegation would be enough.

He's right.

The allegation would be enough to ruin me. I've known that all along and refused to confront it, sure that if Lisa didn't tell, then there'd be nothing to worry about. I've been such a fool.

I imagine the word getting out that I've been fucking my assistant. All of Atlanta would scorn me. The looks on Mark's and Sehun's faces. My junior associates whispering. My father's pleas for my salvation and my mother's stony, unforgiving silence.

I can't breathe. I might vomit.

No. I can't give in to a panic attack. Now is not the time. I should call Lisa, warn her, and even ask her input—something tells me she could manage to be levelheaded, that she wouldn't go into hysterics or hate me for ruining her…

For ruining her life.

I bite my lip and rub a hand over my forehead. That's the crux of it, isn't it?

The whispers and scorn would follow her everywhere: sleeping her way to the top. She'd only get a job if I pulled some strings for her, and she'd hate that, would never even accept it. And after everything she's gone through, to experience a blow like this…

She's young, she's vibrant, she's got weekend plans and suspects nothing of this oncoming train. She doesn't have to. She never has to. I can protect her from that.

Suddenly, nothing in the world seems more important than protecting Lisa Manoban from this disaster.

I could call Taehyung and agree to his terms immediately. I know I will eventually, so why delay? Yet, again, I force my hand not to reach for the phone. He gave me forty-eight hours, and I intend to take every one of them before I humble myself in the most revolting way.

This one scrap of dignity is all I've got left tonight, and soon enough I won't even have that. I'll have to find a scrap of something else. And I have no idea what it can possibly be.