The Assistant's Escape: From Abuse to Love

"Ethan, why the sudden resignation? You're heading to Norway?" the HR manager asked. I was Sarah Jenkins's longest-serving, most loyal assistant, but I had no reason to stay anymore.

A bitter smile touched my lips as I remembered how I had been tricked into a marriage seven years ago with Sarah, who used me as a stand-in for her ex, David. Now, she was pregnant and needed a husband.

I found them at "The Gilded Lily," Sarah tending to David's injury, her face full of adoration. I was invisible, a servant, bringing clothes for David. Even my son, Leo, saw it. He looked at their linked hands, hurt flickering in his eyes.

That night, Leo, my son, whispered, "This is the 97th time Mom has made me sad. Three more times. When it gets to 100, we'll leave Mom and never come back." My heart ached. Sarah had promised to celebrate his birthday, but she was flaunting her relationship with David on social media.

When she came home, reeking of alcohol, she shoved a toy at me. "This is for Leo." It was the one she'd forgotten. A wave of frustration washed over me. "Let's get a divorce." She stared at me, then curled her lips into a mocking smile. "Can you and your son survive without me?"

The next day, I handed her the divorce papers. She signed them without looking, her mind on an international call. I hated her condescending gestures, the expensive suits she bought me that were meant for someone like David.

"I can give you a marriage, I can give you money, but you can't hope for my love. I hope you always remember your place." Her words sliced my heart. What right did I have to be upset? I was just the assistant, the stand-in husband.

At a family dinner, her mother constantly compared me and my son to David and his son, Lucas. Lucas, a spoiled brat, then falsely accused Leo of hitting him with a fork. Before I could defend Leo, Sarah slapped our son. "Still lying!" My eyes burned red. How could she?

The world went silent. Leo, his cheek red and swollen, looked at her, his soft voice filled with defiance. "I hate you. I don't have a mom like you!" My heart shattered. She had given birth to him, but she had never raised him. She only knew how to hurt him.

"You're disgusting, disgusting, disgusting!" I roared, grabbing Leo's hand, ignoring Sarah. She tried to grab me, but I pulled away. "David is still waiting for you." She let go, her eyes darting to him. My heart turned to ice. She chose him again.

I leaned down to Leo, "How about we go to Norway tonight?" He nodded, his gaze firm. "Okay." This was it. There was nothing left for me here. I packed our bags, buried a box of old memories, and placed the signed divorce papers on the table.

Then, I texted her: "100." Moments later, she replied, "What?" My face impassive, I typed back: "My son and I gave you 100 chances to hurt us. Today was your 100th time." No more. My son and I were flying into the night, leaving her, and our past, behind.

"Ethan, why the sudden resignation? You're heading to Norway? Does Ms. Jenkins know about this?" The HR manager looked at Ethan, his sharp suit doing little to hide his surprise.

Ethan Miller had been Sarah Jenkins's longest-serving, most loyal assistant. Everyone in Jenkins Corp. just assumed he would be there forever. Ethan himself used to think so.

But he had no reason to stay anymore.

A bitter smile touched his lips, but he said nothing, just pressing them together. "She'll agree."

The HR manager sighed, defeated. "The paperwork will take a month. You can come back then to finalize everything."

Ethan nodded and turned to leave. His phone buzzed before he was even out of the office. It was Ms. Jenkins.

Her voice was an icy shard through the phone. "Come to 'The Gilded Lily'."

She hung up before he could answer. Ethan gripped his phone, a familiar ache tightening in his chest. Sarah Jenkins was his wife. They had been secretly married for six years.

Seven years ago, her fiancé, David Clark, had left her for another woman. Sarah had drowned herself in alcohol, a different bottle every night. One of those nights, lost in a drunken haze, she had mistaken Ethan for David.

A few weeks later, on a business trip, she spoke to him with the same detached tone she used for quarterly reports.

"I'm pregnant. Let's get married."

The words had stunned him. He' d loved her for years, a silent, hopeless kind of love. Was this it? Was his one wish finally coming true? He knew she still loved someone else, but he thought maybe, just maybe, if he worked hard enough, he could win her heart.

He had said yes.

They got married, and nothing changed. She was the CEO, and he was the assistant. That was all.

Just like now. Sarah hadn't told him why she wanted him at the restaurant, but he knew. She needed a men's outfit for David. He had no right to question it, no right to feel the bitterness that rose in his throat. He swallowed it down and took the clothes to 'The Gilded Lily'.

When he walked in, he saw them. Sarah was carefully, gently tending to an injury on David' s hand. David was shirtless, and Sarah didn't seem to notice, leaning in close. Every time David flinched, her brow furrowed with concern, and her movements became even softer.

Ethan stood in the doorway, watching them. His eyes stung, but he kept his face a blank mask. He walked forward and handed the clothes to David.

David glanced at him, a flicker of triumph in his eyes, before leaning in to kiss Sarah' s forehead. Then he went upstairs to change. Sarah watched him go, her face full of adoration.

Ethan felt like an intruder, a ghost in their perfect picture. He hesitated, the words fighting to get out.

"Sarah..."

Her gaze snapped to him, cold and sharp.

"Mr. Miller."

He understood the warning. Even when they were alone, he was not to cross that line. He gave up on telling her he was leaving. He stiffened his spine.

"Yes."

David came downstairs less than ten minutes later, dressed in the custom suit. He looked sharp, a perfect match for Sarah. She naturally took his arm, and they started walking toward the door, shoulder to shoulder. Ethan followed behind, carrying David' s discarded clothes like a servant.

Suddenly, a clear voice cut through the air.

"Dad!"

Ethan' s head shot up. Leo Jenkins, his son, stood there with his small backpack. His eyes landed on Sarah and David' s linked hands, and a flicker of hurt crossed his face.

Sarah froze when she saw Leo, but she didn' t let go of David' s hand.

Leo pressed his lips into a thin line. "Hello, Aunt Sarah."

Her expression darkened, and she mumbled a reply. Ethan' s heart clenched. He stepped forward and took Leo' s hand. "Sorry, he came to find me."

Sarah' s eyes were cold. "Handle it and come back."

She left with David, not giving her son a second glance.

Ethan picked Leo up, his hand rubbing his son' s sad little face.

Leo whispered into his ear. "97."

"What?" Ethan asked, confused.

"This is the 97th time Mom has made me sad," Leo said, his voice quiet but firm. "Three more times. When it gets to 100, we'll leave Mom and never come back."

An ache spread through Ethan's chest. He nodded slowly.

"Okay."

That night, Ethan taped the last letter, a big yellow "Y," onto the wall above the television, finishing the birthday display. Leo sat at the dining table, his eyes fixed on the front door. He was trying hard to forget what he' d seen that afternoon, waiting for Sarah to walk through that door and celebrate his birthday with him.

She had finally promised yesterday. He'd been so excited.

But the TV played on, one show after another. The food on the table grew cold, was reheated, and grew cold again. Sarah never came.

Ethan stared at his phone, a heavy weight in his chest.

"When are you coming home?"

"Leo's birthday is almost over."

His messages went unanswered, sinking into a digital void.

He heard a small noise. Leo had already stuck the candles into the cake himself.

"Dad, I want to make a wish."

Ethan, a man who rarely cried, felt his eyes burn. He had failed his son. He hadn't given him a normal, loving family. He had let this charade go on for too long.

"Okay," he murmured, his voice thick. He moved to light the candles, but his phone vibrated. His heart jumped.

Leo' s eyes lit up. "Is it Mom?"

Ethan snatched the phone, but it was just a news alert.

"Jenkins Corp. CEO Finds True Love! Romantic Candlelit Dinner, Spends Millions on a Yacht!"

The picture showed Sarah and David, their faces close, the candlelight making them glow. Another picture showed them walking toward the coast. The media had helpfully drawn an arrow to a double-decker yacht, noting its multi-million dollar price tag. Below the article, comments poured in, blessing the reunited couple, speculating on their wedding date.

Ethan felt nothing but a cold, mocking emptiness. She promised her son a birthday celebration, but she was out with her ex, having a romantic dinner, flaunting their relationship for the world to see.

The ones who aren't loved are truly the most pathetic.

He turned off his phone. "It's not Mom," he said, his voice calm, too calm.

He lit the candles. In the flickering light, Leo closed his eyes to make his wish. He looked so much like Sarah. Ethan felt a faint, sharp pain. They both silently agreed not to mention her again.

Later, as he carried a sleeping Leo to bed, his son stirred.

"Dad, do you know what I wished for?" he whispered.

"What?"

"I wished Mom would cherish her last two chances so we could be a family of three forever."

Ethan' s breath hitched. After everything that happened tonight, his son still wanted his mother' s love more than anything. He had made a terrible mistake. He should have pushed Sarah away years ago.

"She will," he choked out, the lie tasting like ash in his mouth. "She will."

After Leo was asleep, Ethan went to the balcony and smoked a whole pack of cigarettes. He had quit for Sarah a long time ago. Tonight, he couldn't stop himself.

He heard the front door open. He turned. Sarah stumbled in, her face flushed, reeking of alcohol.

"Ethan Miller."

When she said his full name like that, he knew. He instinctively moved to support her. Only when she was drunk did she ever show him this kind of warmth. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her hot breath on his face.

"I'm so happy today."

Ethan' s back went rigid. His arms, which had been holding her steady, went slack. Of course she was happy. She'd had a perfect night.

She shoved a toy into his hand. "This is for Leo."

Ethan stared at the familiar packaging. His eyes grew cold. So she hadn't forgotten her promise. She just didn't care. A wave of frustration washed over him, hot and suffocating.

"Let's get a divorce."

Sarah stared at him, her drunken eyes trying to focus. A long moment passed. Then, her lips curled into a mocking smile.

"Can you and your son survive without me?"

Without another word, she collapsed against him.

He smiled bitterly, carrying her to the master bedroom. After he got her settled, he went to the guest room.

The next day, Sarah was up before him. He could hear her in the study, her voice crisp and clear, conducting an international conference call in fluent British English.

Ethan took out the divorce papers he' d prepared. He walked into the study and handed them to her during a pause in her meeting.

"Ms. Jenkins, I have a document here that needs your signature."

Sarah was focused on her call. She didn't even look at what he was giving her. She took the pen, signed her name with a flourish, and handed it back.

She saw him still standing there and muted her phone. "Didn't I just sign it? What are you still doing here?"

Ethan gripped the papers, his knuckles white. He nodded, about to leave.

But then she called out again.

"Wait."