I survived the startup trenches with Dominic Vance. Ten years of playing the loyal founder’s wife.
Yet, in all that time, he had never once brought me to a BrightVance Technologies anniversary gala.
This year was the tenth. The venue was the five-star Astoria Grand in Manhattan. I had practically begged him to let me go, just to see the scale of what we had built.
Dominic stood by the entryway, slipping on his oxfords without even looking up.
"If you go, it'll just make the team and the investors awkward."
He straightened up, pressing a hurried kiss to my forehead.
"Don't worry. Once this sprint is over, I'll take you and Poppy to Maui."
The front door clicked shut.
I stood alone in a living room scattered with wooden blocks and picture books, a dull ache settling in my chest.
Suddenly, my three-year-old daughter, Poppy, came running down the hall, holding up a sleek black smartphone.
"Mommy! Daddy forgot his phone!"
I froze.
That wasn't the phone Dominic usually carried.
The moment my fingertips brushed the screen, an iMessage preview lit up.
Dom, the gala dress is ready. $4,000. Waiting for you to swipe that card.
The sender was saved as:
Baby V.
~~~~~
My breath hitched.
Dominic hadn't even bothered to set a passcode.
I opened the thread. The woman he affectionately saved as Baby V was actually Vanessa Cole.
The earliest messages dated back to August, three years ago.
Dominic, the proposal is revised. Sent to your inbox.
I had been seven months pregnant with Poppy then, suffering from severe hyperemesis.
Dominic had told me: "The company is at a critical stage. I have to sleep at the office."
I scrolled up. Last Valentine’s Day, he had Zelled me $143 with a text telling me to buy myself some flowers.
"Thanks for holding down the fort, honey."
At that exact same time, in this hidden chat, the messages read:
Other girls get flowers. I just want a transfer from you.
[$2,000 transfer]
I love you.
Dominic had replied:
You little tease. Usual place tonight?
He had come home at 3:00 AM that night, reeking of alcohol and an unfamiliar perfume.
He had held me and said: "I'm killing myself for this family. I just need you to bear with me."
For my birthday, Dominic gifted me a $350 necklace.
"I'll get you something better next year," he had promised.
That very same day, he transferred $5,000 to Vanessa Cole.
She had texted:
Thank you, Dom. I am so in love with you.
Dominic’s reply:
I love you too.
Those words drove into me like nails.
In the living room, Poppy was hugging her stuffed bunny, humming an off-key song in a patch of morning sunlight.
My daughter was only three years old.
My husband’s mistress had been by his side for three years.
I forced my thumb to keep scrolling.
The last message from yesterday was from Vanessa.
Dom, I think I'm pregnant.
Dominic had replied in seconds.
Are you serious? Clinic tomorrow. If it's real, we're going public.
The sound of a key turning in the lock snapped me back.
Dominic pushed the door open, his eyes sweeping the room.
"I left my black phone. Have you seen it?"
"Poppy found it."
I walked over and handed it to him.
"You forgot something so important."
He snatched it from my grip, instantly clicking the screen dark before shoving it into his suit's inner pocket.
The entire exchange took less than three seconds.
"Just... scattered," he muttered, clearing his throat. "A million moving parts for the tenth anniversary."
"You'd better get going, then."
He paused, reaching out to give my hair a patronizing ruffle.
"Networking dinner tonight. Don't wait up."
The door shut again.
I backed against the wall, sliding down until I hit the floor.
The pointed roof of Poppy's block castle blurred and warped through my tears.
That was the day I realized some paths can only be walked alone.
Step one: stop shaking.