Chapter 3: Exposed Motives

I didn’t waste another breath arguing. Marching down the hall with Derek close behind, I passed a faded poster about city services and the stale smell of burnt coffee clinging to the air. We stopped at a door marked "Manager."

Inside, a middle-aged man with wire-rimmed glasses and a coffee mug that read “World’s Okayest Boss” pulled up my record. He scrolled, squinting at the screen, his expression tired but thorough.

"Your record’s spotless," he said, finally. "First marriage. And as for any medical checks—none of that’s in our system."

A visible wave of relief washed over Derek, his shoulders slumping as he squeezed my hand under the desk, fingers warm and reassuring. The tension in my own chest began to ease, but Derek’s fists remained tight for a moment longer.

"Babe, how could I ever doubt you?" he muttered. "We’ll get this straightened out. She can’t just get away with that."

His conviction gave me strength. But the manager just sighed, folding his hands around his mug. "I’m truly sorry, both of you. She’s a temp, not full-time. She’s already resigned—today’s her last day."

Outside, I heard someone laugh by the vending machine, life moving on as if my world hadn’t just been flipped upside down.