Their friend group had always been tight—four boys and one girl, growing up together. In that circle, Erik and Polly had been the "golden boy and jade girl," the ideal couple. If Polly hadn’t been persuaded to marry a foreigner, I never would have had the chance to marry him.
But when she returned to America, divorced and with a young son, I instantly became the villain, the outsider who had supposedly broken up this “fairy-tale” pair. No one blamed Polly for leaving Erik; instead, they cast me as the intruder.
This group often went out, drinking late into the night. Knowing Erik’s weak stomach, I’d call to remind him to come home, hoping to spare him any trouble. My concern only deepened their dislike; they saw me as a wet blanket and, behind my back, dubbed me “The Tigress.”
Whenever his friends visited our home, they treated me like some glorified housekeeper. Today, yet again, Erik had chosen them over me. Maybe it’s better this way; at least now, I won’t be tempted to soften.
I liked his friend’s post on Instagram, though it quickly disappeared, as if they’d forgotten to block me from seeing it.
Around three in the morning, Erik finally stumbled in, reeking of alcohol. He lingered in the kitchen before quietly opening the bedroom door. When he saw I was awake, a brief flash of panic crossed his face, but he moved closer, gently pulling the quilt over me.
“No sobering soup for me tonight?” he asked softly.
I hummed in response, my gaze shifting away. Beneath the heavy scent of alcohol, a faint trace of perfume lingered, and it made my stomach turn.
He sighed, as if he wanted to say more but thought better of it. Instead, he left with a single line: “You’re pregnant. Get some rest.”
The next day, I arrived at the office early. No matter how tangled my personal life felt, work couldn’t afford delays. For too long, I’d been running late, caught up in managing Erik’s needs. My early arrival raised the supervisor’s eyebrows.
After the morning meeting, she called me into her office.
“Alyce, there's an opportunity to work at one of our overseas branches. Are you interested?” she began, her tone careful. “I’ve always valued your skills, but I was concerned about…”
Before she could finish, I nodded. “I’d be grateful for the opportunity. Thank you.”
Surprised, she blinked, pausing. “I noticed you threw out a bouquet last night. Did you have a fight with your husband?”