Chapter 5

Dessie looked at Craig, her heart a dead weight in her chest. "You let her do this? You let her throw my life into a box and replace it?"

"It' s just some pictures, Dessie," Craig said, his voice laced with annoyance. "And some papers. Don' t be so dramatic."

"Papers?" Her voice was dangerously low. "Those 'papers' represent years of my life. The work that got you promoted. The work that paid for this house."

His face hardened. "This is my house. I am the man of this house, and what I say goes."

The words echoed in the tense silence. It was a declaration of war.

She thought of her childhood, bounced between foster homes, never having a place that was truly hers. She had poured all her hopes for a real home, a real family, into this marriage, into this house. And he was telling her she was just a guest. An unwelcome one.

Chanel sidled up to Dessie, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "You see? He' ll always choose me. He pampers me. He lets me do whatever I want."

She patted her stomach again. "Especially now. He' s so worried about the baby. His baby."

Dessie ignored her. Her focus was entirely on Craig.

"Get her out of my house," Dessie said.

"I told you, she has nowhere to go," Craig snapped. "Stop being so selfish."

"Selfish?" The word broke from her lips in a raw cry. "I gave up everything for you!"

"And I' m telling you to be patient!" he roared back. "Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

Chanel smirked. "You' re just a technician, Dessie. A glorified mechanic. You think you' re so important, but without Craig, you' re nothing. He' s the one going places. You' ll just be left behind, a washed-up, bitter woman."

Dessie turned her icy gaze on Chanel. "I am a lead software architect. The systems I designed are worth millions to this company. Craig got his promotion because of my work. Don' t you ever forget that."

Chanel just laughed. "He' s tired of you. He told me so."

Later that night, Craig came into their bedroom. Dessie was packing her awards and photos into a box. He tried to soften his tone.

"Look, Dessie, just let it go for now. You' re making things difficult for me."

He gestured to the box. "They' re just pieces of paper. Is it really worth fighting over?"

Just pieces of paper. The words struck her with the force of a slap. He used to be so proud of her achievements. He used to brag about her to anyone who would listen. Now, to appease his new woman, he dismissed everything she had accomplished.

It was the first time they had a true, screaming fight. All the repressed anger, the hurt, the betrayal, came pouring out of her.

"Get out!" she screamed, her voice raw.

"Fine!" he yelled back, his face red with anger. "I' m tired of coddling you anyway!"

He slammed the door so hard a picture frame fell off the wall. The glass shattered. It was a photo of them, smiling on a vacation. A lifetime ago.