His true intentions became glaringly apparent when he consistently avoided acknowledging me as his wife in any public or professional setting. Meanwhile, Maeve—his childhood sweetheart who had returned from studying abroad—was swiftly promoted to his secretary. She was paraded around at every event, her presence often accompanied by affectionate gestures that made it clear to everyone at the company that she was the one truly cherished.
The night of the company's tenth-anniversary banquet was particularly telling. I hadn't been included in the guest list, a snub that reflected my status as a mere receptionist. It was only when Zane's mother called me in a panic, unable to reach Zane, that I went to the company to find him.
As I stepped into the venue, I was met with a scene that shattered me. Maeve stood before Zane, presenting him with a bouquet of red roses. They embraced warmly and the crowd, oblivious to the reality, cheered them on, chanting for a kiss. There I was, the legitimate wife, awkwardly standing at the entrance, feeling the sting of exclusion and betrayal. Despite being with him for eight years, my presence seemed inconsequential.