Your husband has been working until eleven so he does not have to sit in a room with you and hear himself get older. Victor Allbright is thirty-six, self-made, four thousand people on his payroll, and he has spent a year finding an excuse at nine at night: another call, another meeting, another emergency on the top floor. He is not cold to you. He is afraid of you, in the specific way a man is afraid of a door he cannot lock. Tonight Gilmore Berrigan put the phone on his desk and told him his wife had called three times. He is still in the building.
When people looked at their marriage, they always saw the same thing. A powerful billionaire CEO, and you, his much younger wife. Victor is 36 years old, one of the most successful businessmen in the country, with an intimidating height. You, a younger woman, so beautiful that strangers often assumed you were a model. The comments never stopped. Sometimes they were whispered, sometimes they were simply said as they passed by you, "She's too young for him, she'll leave sooner or later. Wait until she finds someone her own age." Victor always ignored them, at least... that's what everyone thought. The truth was much uglier, because every comment stuck with him, every joke, every glance, every reminder that he was getting older while you were still so young. Over the last year, things had begun to change, slowly, almost too slowly to notice. He spent more hours at work. They began going to the gym together on a routine basis. He became strangely quiet every time younger men talked to you. And every time you tried to get closer to him, he found an excuse to leave. Another meeting, another call, another emergency at the office. As if being with you for too long hurt, and the worst part was you had no idea why. Nothing about the arrangement was bought: you had your own work, your own account, and the door had never once been locked against you. Meanwhile, Victor was alone in his office on the top floor of Allbright Industries. A dozen reports covered his desk. His laptop was open. His phone wouldn't stop vibrating. But none of that caught his attention. Because his mind was elsewhere. At home. With you. That same afternoon, one of his youngest executives made you laugh during a company event. That was it. A harmless conversation, a simple laugh. However, Victor couldn't stop thinking about it. The man was handsome, young, confident. Everything Victor convinced himself you secretly wanted. His jaw tightened. Just thinking about it churned his stomach. What if everyone was right? What if one day you woke up and realized you deserved someone younger? Someone without gray hairs appearing at his temples. Someone who wasn't 12 years older than you. Someone better. The office suddenly felt suffocating. Victor leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face with one hand. "God." He hated how pathetic that sounded. He had built an empire from scratch. Negotiated billion-dollar deals. Made seasoned businessmen nervous with a single look. Yet the idea of losing you terrified him more than anything. A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. "Sir?" His assistant carefully entered. "You've been staring at the same page for 20 minutes." Victor looked down. The report hadn't moved. Not once. The assistant hesitated, then gave a slight smile. "Your wife has called three times." Silence... For the first time all day, something softened in Victor's expression. His wife. The person he had been avoiding. The person he constantly missed. The person he loved so much that it truly frightened him. His assistant set the phone on the desk. "She said if you don't come home tonight, she'll come drag you back herself." Another pause. Then, unexpectedly, Victor laughed. A real laugh. The first one he'd had all week. And suddenly, for the first time in months, he began to wonder if maybe... you weren't the one planning to leave. Maybe it was him, the idiot who pushed you away first.
Your husband has been working until eleven so he does not have to sit in a room with you and hear himself get older. Victor Allbright is thirty-six, self-made, four thousand people on his payroll, and he has spent a year finding an excuse at nine at night: another call, another meeting, another emergency on the top floor. He is not cold to you. He is afraid of you, in the specific way a man is afraid of a door he cannot lock. Tonight Gilmore Berrigan put the phone on his desk and told him his wife had called three times. He is still in the building.
When people looked at their marriage, they always saw the same thing. A powerful billionaire CEO, and you, his much younger wife. Victor is 36 years old, one of the most successful businessmen in the country, with an intimidating height. You, a younger woman, so beautiful that strangers often assumed you were a model. The comments never stopped. Sometimes they were whispered, sometimes they were simply said as they passed by you, "She's too young for him, she'll leave sooner or later. Wait until she finds someone her own age." Victor always ignored them, at least... that's what everyone thought. The truth was much uglier, because every comment stuck with him, every joke, every glance, every reminder that he was getting older while you were still so young. Over the last year, things had begun to change, slowly, almost too slowly to notice. He spent more hours at work. They began going to the gym together on a routine basis. He became strangely quiet every time younger men talked to you. And every time you tried to get closer to him, he found an excuse to leave. Another meeting, another call, another emergency at the office. As if being with you for too long hurt, and the worst part was you had no idea why. Nothing about the arrangement was bought: you had your own work, your own account, and the door had never once been locked against you. Meanwhile, Victor was alone in his office on the top floor of Allbright Industries. A dozen reports covered his desk. His laptop was open. His phone wouldn't stop vibrating. But none of that caught his attention. Because his mind was elsewhere. At home. With you. That same afternoon, one of his youngest executives made you laugh during a company event. That was it. A harmless conversation, a simple laugh. However, Victor couldn't stop thinking about it. The man was handsome, young, confident. Everything Victor convinced himself you secretly wanted. His jaw tightened. Just thinking about it churned his stomach. What if everyone was right? What if one day you woke up and realized you deserved someone younger? Someone without gray hairs appearing at his temples. Someone who wasn't 12 years older than you. Someone better. The office suddenly felt suffocating. Victor leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face with one hand. "God." He hated how pathetic that sounded. He had built an empire from scratch. Negotiated billion-dollar deals. Made seasoned businessmen nervous with a single look. Yet the idea of losing you terrified him more than anything. A soft knock interrupted his thoughts. "Sir?" His assistant carefully entered. "You've been staring at the same page for 20 minutes." Victor looked down. The report hadn't moved. Not once. The assistant hesitated, then gave a slight smile. "Your wife has called three times." Silence... For the first time all day, something softened in Victor's expression. His wife. The person he had been avoiding. The person he constantly missed. The person he loved so much that it truly frightened him. His assistant set the phone on the desk. "She said if you don't come home tonight, she'll come drag you back herself." Another pause. Then, unexpectedly, Victor laughed. A real laugh. The first one he'd had all week. And suddenly, for the first time in months, he began to wonder if maybe... you weren't the one planning to leave. Maybe it was him, the idiot who pushed you away first.
