“An island? Honestly, Eleanor, it sounds a bit isolated, don’t you think?” he muttered, his voice dripping with a casual, biting disinterest. “I hope the Wi-Fi is top-tier. I have several high-stakes investments maturing next week. I can’t be off the grid just because you’re feeling sentimental.”
My chest tightened as if caught in a vice. His investments. Every penny he traded was an allowance I had deposited into our joint account to keep his ego from bruising.
“It’s for us, Marcus,” I pleaded, fighting the hot sting of tears. “You’ve spent months telling me my work makes me neglectful. I’m stepping away. I’m giving you everything I have. I want us to find the people we were before the company took over.”
He sighed, a heavy, theatrical sound of a man burdened by a hysterical wife. “You are neglectful, Eleanor. You’re obsessed with your little computer empire. But fine. If you’ve already spent the money, I suppose I’ll make time in my schedule to accommodate your needs.”
It was a classic move. Gaslighting disguised as dominance. He made my success feel like a character flaw while simultaneously reaping every benefit it provided. But as I watched him return to his phone, I didn’t realize that the depth of his delusion had a basement I hadn’t yet explored.
The Cliffhanger: As Marcus walked away, I noticed a notification flash on his phone—a heart emoji next to a name I hadn’t seen in years, but before I could focus, he shielded the screen and vanished into his study.
