Chapter 2
I’d been at my company for four years, but my position was lower than some of the new hires. The reason? Everyone knew. I’m tall and slender, with fair skin and a pretty face. When I first joined the company, I was the center of attention for quite a while. That ended the moment I got married. Everyone here was civilized; they knew there were certain lines you didn’t cross. But some people weren’t like that. They were just predators, taking whatever they wanted. My boss, Mr. Sterling, had hinted at things repeatedly, but I always played dumb and brushed him off. Today, though, it seemed that wasn’t going to work. “Director Sterling, I need to go home and have dinner with my husband tonight.” I pulled my hand away, smiling as I politely refused my boss’s invitation. That old creep practically had his dirty thoughts tattooed on his forehead. It was sickening. He’d already taken advantage of almost every woman in the office, it was just a matter of how much. “Violet, what about tomorrow then?” “I’m on a diet tomorrow. No dinner.” I blurted out without thinking. Dealing with workplace harassment is a vital skill for modern women. The old creep’s face instantly darkened, and he slammed a file onto the desk. “Redo this! I want to see it before the meeting tomorrow morning, or else, Violet Hayes, you can forget about your bonus this month!” I kept a smile on my face as I bent down to pick up the huge stack of files from his desk. These were materials I’d spent a week organizing. He hadn’t even looked at them before tossing them back, clearly trying to mess with me. If it were the old me, I would have thrown it right back in his face and walked out. But times were different now. I had a husband to support at home. If I quit, we’d both starve. Ugh, money problems can really crush you. After a whole day of hard work, it was already dark when I got home. In early spring, the mornings and evenings still felt like winter. The wind bit at my face, making my skin sting. After an hour of battling rush hour traffic, I finally dragged my half-dead self through the door. Our place wasn’t big, a cozy two-bedroom apartment, but it was warm and comfortable. “Wifey, you’re back! Quick, wash up and change. Dinner’s ready!” Rhys was wearing a cartoon apron, his clothes a sportswear set bought on sale at the mall, and on his feet were blue bunny slippers that matched my pink ones. He came out of the kitchen carrying steaming dishes, a warm smile on his face. His smile was like sunshine after a storm, melting away all my fatigue. I sniffled hard, suddenly feeling like all the grievances I’d suffered outside didn’t matter. A good partner protects their loved one from any pain. Seeing him so peaceful and domestic, I decided I could handle anything the outside world threw at us. “What’s wrong? Hurry and wash your hands. Come taste today’s special Rhys-style home cooking.” His goofy look made me laugh, and I happily trotted off to the bathroom to wash my hands. On the dinner table were what Rhys considered “home-cooked meals.” “Are we having Boston lobster today?” I absolutely refused to believe my meager salary could afford him buying gourmet meals home every few days. Yesterday, it was abalone. The day before, ginseng chicken soup. The day before that…