He began correcting her at dinners, chuckling when she mispronounced a name. “You’re adorable when you try,” he would say, as if she were naïve. He started staying out late, dismissing her questions as insecurity. “You’re overthinking,” he’d tell her. “You’re lucky I’m patient.”
By year four, she wasn’t a partner—she was a prop.
When Olivia discovered she was pregnant in their fifth year, she hoped it might soften him. Instead, Jake’s face remained unreadable. “This isn’t ideal timing,” he said flatly. “Do you realize what a child costs?”
A week later, the truth found her.
Jake’s phone buzzed while he was showering. A message lit up from someone saved as Lauren:
“I miss you. When are you finally leaving her?”
Olivia didn’t scream. She didn’t confront him. She set the phone down exactly where it had been and sat at the kitchen table, one hand resting over her stomach, the other gripping the chair until her knuckles whitened.
Soon after, Jake stopped pretending. He brought Lauren to a charity gala as though Olivia were already invisible. Lauren lingered too close, laughed too brightly. Jake told Olivia to “be gracious” when she shifted on swollen feet.