The 100k Bonus

Five years of marriage, and my husband's secretary, Kinsley Reed, just posted a screenshot on Instagram. It showed a bank transfer for $52,131.40.

Her caption read: When your boss is this generous, work is just so sweet! #Blessed

I left a simple comment telling her to focus on her work. Seconds later, I realized she had blocked me.

Then, my husband's name flashed on my screen. He didn't even say hello before he started screaming.

"I just gave her an early bonus for her birthday! Why the hell are you harassing her in her DMs? Aria, my patience is not an excuse for you to be this crazy!"

In the background, I could hear the entire office comforting her. Kinsley was letting out soft, forced sighs, playing the victim perfectly.

I didn't even get a chance to explain before he hung up and blocked my number.

Minutes later, she posted again. It was a transfer for a hundred thousand dollars this time.

I knew Marcus was trying to compensate her for my "harassment."

But this time, I didn't care anymore.

When Marcus Sterling walked through the door, I was just throwing away the trash from my cheap takeout.

The doctor had told me to stick to a bland diet after my surgery for a malignant stomach tumor. I shouldn't have eaten that spicy food, but I did it anyway.

Today was our fifth wedding anniversary. I had discharged myself from the hospital early just to be home.

I even booked a high-end restaurant for a candlelit dinner.

I had waited all day for him to reply to my messages. If I hadn't seen Kinsley's post and received that hateful phone call, I'd probably still be sitting at that restaurant like a fool.

Marcus glanced at the empty dining table and frowned with annoyance.

"No dinner tonight?" he asked, his voice cold.

I nodded slowly, my fingers scrolling through my phone.

"You already ate out, didn't you?"

In the past, no matter how busy I was, I would have cooked his favorite meal. If he even slightly frowned, I would have felt like the world was ending.

A submissive heart never wins equal love. I finally understood that.

Marcus didn't even notice I was acting differently. He walked over and opened a boxed cake.

"I picked this up for you. I remembered our anniversary was coming up. You don't like sweets anyway, so this is just for the gesture."

He pushed a mangled cake toward me. It was clearly a leftover. There were visible dents where pieces of fruit had been picked off.

He never realized that I actually hated desserts.

I only loved the anniversary cakes because they symbolized our happiness. For years, I ate the cakes he called trash just to keep the dream alive.

Now, I just glanced at it and went back to my phone.

My indifference caught him off guard. His brow furrowed with impatience.

"Aria Sterling, what is this attitude? I went out of my way to bring this home, and you're starting drama again? When does it end?"

"I don't want things other people have touched," I said quietly. "It's filthy."

Right then, his phone chimed. He looked down and a small, almost invisible smile touched his lips.

I didn't need to guess who it was. When he looked back at me, his eyes were cold again, but filled with a secret excitement.

"Fine! I'll go out and buy you a fresh one myself! You don't even like it, yet you're being so picky. I work all day and come home to this face. I really don't owe you this!"

He turned to leave. I remembered I had been in such a rush to leave the hospital that I forgot my meds.

I got up and started putting on my shoes. Marcus looked at me like I was a stalker.

"I'm going to the pharmacy," I said firmly. "Drop me off on your way."

He bristled like a threatened animal.

"I'm just buying a cake and you're following me? Are you sick? Why don't you just put a leash on my neck?"

I understood his anger. In the past, I would ask a thousand questions whenever he left at night.

But he was overthinking it this time. I sighed. "There's a pharmacy one block away. Just drop me there. I have zero interest in tracking you."

In the car, I saw him quickly ordering a blueberry cake for pickup on his phone.

Maybe he forgot that he was the one who insisted on the anniversary tradition years ago. Now, I was just a burden to his fun.

I got out at the pharmacy. He looked at me with a hint of surprise, his rage slightly cooling.

"Wait here after you're done. I'll pick you up," he said.

Then he sped off. Muddy water splashed onto my legs. I wiped it off, feeling disgusted, and walked inside.

I waited outside the pharmacy for two hours. My body went numb in the night air, but there was no sign of him.

A crack of thunder shook the sky. Before I could call an Uber, a torrential downpour soaked me to the bone.

My surgical wound began to throb. I ran to a convenience store to buy an umbrella, but the damage was done.

The pain in my stomach was so sharp I had to crouch on the sidewalk. I looked like a drowned rat.

If a kind stranger hadn't stopped to drive me home, I might have ended up in an ambulance again.

Back home, I dried myself and disinfected my wound. Just as I took my medicine, Marcus slammed the front door open.

"Why didn't you tell me you went home? Do you know how many times I drove around in that storm? I looked for you for an hour! You think playing me is funny?"

I froze while putting my water glass down. The sheer audacity was mind-blowing.

He had blocked my number. How was I supposed to reach him?

I waited for two hours, and he claimed he looked for one? I didn't bother calling out his lie.

"If you want me to contact you, maybe take me off your block list first," I said coldly.

He bit his lip, his anger deflating slightly. He walked into the living room and tossed a soggy, boxless cake onto the table.

"It's late. The shop ran out of boxes. I had to go to five different places to find this."

I looked at the matcha cake. His lies were getting lazier by the minute.

It didn't matter. I didn't like sweets anymore. Without the sentiment, the cake just looked nauseatingly sugary.

My phone screen lit up with a notification. Kinsley had just posted a photo of a blueberry cake.

Her caption: "I don't like sweets, but I love how sweet you are. #Latenighttreat"

I wanted to laugh at the irony, but I didn't have the energy.

"Thanks," I said. "It's a lot of work. Throw it away."

His face twisted in rage. His eyes turned bloodshot.

"Are you insane? I ran around in the rain for you, and you say throw it away?"

"You're treating me like a dog! Is this all because I gave a bonus to an employee? How long are you going to milk this? I'm the boss; it's my right! I haven't even settled the score for you harassing her yet!"

I pressed my hand against my throbbing head. The rain had given me a fever.

"You're overthinking it," I whispered. "I don't have the time or interest to play games. While you were out, I wasD"

He cut me off with a roar.

"Enough! It's always the same with you! I've never seen a woman so jealous. Maybe if you spent this much time on your own career, you wouldn't be so pathetic. Your heart is the size of a needle. Being married to you is making me lose my mind!"

In the past, I would have screamed back. I would have begged him to tell me he only loved me.

Not anymore. We were adults. If love has to be interrogated, does it even exist?

I knew he wouldn't believe me if I told him the truth.

"If that's what you want to think, there's nothing I can do," I said.

For the first time in five years, I chose the cold shoulder. I stood up and headed for the bedroom.

He didn't follow. He sat on the sofa, scrolling through his phone. I could hear him stifling a laugh.

Then he went into the bathroom, likely to make a secret call.

I grabbed my blankets and started moving to the guest room. I ran right into Marcus as he stepped out of the bathroom.

He looked at the bedding in my arms and scowled.

"What is this? You're sleeping in the guest room now?"

"I don't even complain about how haggard you've looked lately, and you're pulling this? You think you're still Aria Sterling, the college queen? There are plenty of women outside who'd kill to be in your spot!"

"If you can't sleep, don't bother texting me!"

I didn't reply. I just went into the guest room. Moving the heavy blankets pulled at my stitches, making me wince in pain.

Usually, when he wasn't home, I would toss and turn. I used to call him until he threw a bottle of sleeping pills at me.

I had grown used to the medication. But tonight, I didn't want any drugs interfering with my recovery.

Surprisingly, I fell asleep instantly. Everything I thought I couldn't survive turned out to be easy once I stopped caring.

The next day, I spent the morning finding a divorce lawyer.

At the same time, Marcus's company posted a video of a celebration.

In the video, people were spraying champagne. Marcus was shielding Kinsley from the spray, his own back getting soaked.

The jacket draped over Kinsley's shoulders looked familiar. It was the gift Marcus gave me for our anniversary last year.

The gift wasn't mine anymore. Neither was he.

I was about to turn off my phone when Marcus called.

"I sent you an address. I'll pick you up in a bit. I have a surprise for you."

I felt a bitter smirk tugging at my lips. He had already given me enough surprises to last a lifetime.

Before I could say no, he hung up. I guess I was finally off the block list.

I took my meds and cleaned my wound. By the time I finished, his car was downstairs.

I walked out wearing a simple tracksuit and no makeup. Marcus's eyes darkened the moment he saw me.

"You didn't get ready? Are you trying to embarrass me? Look in the mirror, Aria. You look like a damn hobo."

The passenger window rolled down. Kinsley was sitting there, wearing a custom designer dress Marcus had once made for me.

She gave me a bright, youthful smile.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Sterling! I forgot to tell Aria about the dress code... I couldn't get a hold of her."

I thought about the blocked account and smiled thinly. "It's fine. Given our relationship, my appearance shouldn't affect you anymore."

"Besides, having such a young and pretty secretary is proof enough of your success."

Marcus choked on his next insult. I looked at Kinsley, who showed no intention of moving. I just climbed into the back seat.

The whole way there, Kinsley tried to chat with me. She kept gushing about the birthday party the staff threw for her.

She sounded so disappointed. "Aria, you should have been there! You need to see how much Marcus pampers his staff. I'm so jealous of you!"

Marcus looked uneasy. He tried to start a conversation with me through the rearview mirror several times, but I ignored him.

When we got to the hotel, Kinsley hopped out and grabbed Marcus's arm. I followed behind them.

The waiters clearly thought they were the couple. Marcus looked like he wanted to explain, but after looking at my tired face, he stayed silent.

The office staff was waiting by the elevators. When the doors opened and they saw Marcus with Kinsley, the atmosphere turned awkward.

Caleb Vance, a major shareholder and my best friend from college, broke the silence.

"Aria! You're finally here. We wouldn't have signed that big contract without your connections. The whole company owes you a drink today!"

He was trying to save my pride. I gave him a grateful look.

"Don't call me boss, Caleb. Who knows what my title will be once I get back from abroad."

Marcus stopped in his tracks. He turned around, his eyes filled with confusion.

"Abroad? You're leaving the country? Why didn't I know about this? Since when did I agree to that?"

We stared at each other. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

A waiter stepped in to lead us to the private room, breaking the moment. Kinsley naturally sat down right next to Marcus.

I didn't say a word and took a seat on the far end of the table.

The room quickly filled with cigarette smoke. My wound started to ache from the heavy breathing, so I stepped out for air.

Marcus followed me into the hallway. He grabbed my wrist, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"I didn't forget our anniversary, okay? Stop being mad."

"This team-building event was my way of making it up to you. I didn't even have to invite you."

He tried to put an arm around my shoulder. It felt disgusting. I pulled away, looking at his panicked expression, and laughed.

"I'm not mad, Marcus. Stop overthinking."

I turned and walked toward the restroom. I splashed cold water on my face, trying to clear the brain fog.

When I returned to the room, a new female intern was sitting in my spot. She was busy pouring Marcus a drink.

The room went quiet as I approached. She turned around and saw my blank face. She jumped up immediately.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Sterling! I was just giving the boss a toast. Please, take your seat..."

Kinsley waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, Aria isn't that petty. She's seen the world! Marcus always says how generous and kind she is."

"In my opinion, Aria is just like MarcusDgiving to a fault! Otherwise, she wouldn't have let him give me that big bonus for my birthday. My friends are all so jealous; they want to quit their jobs and work for us!"

She smirked at me, a clear challenge in her eyes. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Caleb froze with his glass halfway to his mouth. He looked like he wanted to punch Marcus.

In the past, Marcus kept things under wraps. Today, the knife was out in the open.

I sat down calmly while everyone watched, waiting for the explosion. Kinsley picked up her glass and walked over to me.

"Aria, let me toast to you. Balancing work and home must be so exhausting. Being a woman is hard, but being the wife of a CEO is even harder."

She glanced at my tracksuit with pure disdain. I ignored her.

"I can't drink. I'll stick to tea."

Marcus's brow furrowed. "You can't drink? Aria, stop joking. Is this your way of staying mad? This isn't the place for your tantrums."

Ignoring my refusal, Kinsley filled my empty glass to the brim. She pressed the glass into my hand.

I felt the anger boiling in my chest. "I said, I can't drink today. I'm on medication."

Kinsley looked at Marcus's darkening face. She tried to force the glass into my grip.

I pushed her hand away. The wine splashed all over her chest, soaking the dress that used to be mine.

The glass hit the floor and shattered.

Silence took over the room. Marcus's face was a mask of cold fury.

He slammed his chopsticks onto the table and stood up.

"Aria Sterling, have I given you too much face?!"

"When does the drama stop? Kinsley was trying to be respectful, and you treat her like trash? You're being pathetic!"

Kinsley's eyes welled up with tears. She looked humiliated. I looked at her and felt a cold smile forming.

"Respectful? Which part of that was an apology? Is something wrong with my ears, or is something wrong with your brain?"

Marcus was pushed over the edge by my indifference.

"You don't understand English? Fine, let me toast you personally!"

Before anyone could react, he grabbed his own glass and threw the wine directly into my face.

The liquid went up my nose, making me cough violently. The strain of the coughing fit tore at my surgical stitches. I felt the warm sensation of blood soaking through my shirt.

My strength began to fade. Marcus didn't notice. He grabbed another glass and forced the alcohol into my mouth.

Tears of pain blurred my vision. Marcus's voice boomed above me.

"Apologize to Kinsley right now! Or we're getting a divorce! I can't stand a minute more with a psycho like you!"

Everyone expected me to scream or have a breakdown. Instead, I swallowed the wine and nodded, my face flushed with fever.

"Fine. Let's get a divorce."

Marcus froze. He looked like he'd been struck by lightning.

I grabbed my jacket and wrapped it around me to hide the blood. I took two steps toward the door before the world went black.

The red stain on my grey shirt was the last thing I saw.

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