The blurred streetlights of Midtown Manhattan stretched long across the sidewalk as I stepped out of the taxi. The clock had just struck 10:00 PM. Mark hadn’t picked up his phone for the last three hours, and a wife’s intuition told me something was wrong, even as I tried to convince myself he was just buried in his new merger project.

In my hand was a brown paper bag containing warm BBQ ribs from his favorite restaurant. I wanted to give him a small surprise to brush away the exhaustion from his face.

The doors to the 22nd-floor office opened silently. The hallway was dark, save for a few motion-sensor lights that flickered to life with my footsteps. But as I approached the CEO’s office, I froze. Through the frosted glass door, two silhouettes were intertwined.

My heart sank. It was Mark, and the woman with her arms wrapped around his neck was none other than Sarah—the young secretary he always praised for being “so capable.” They were embracing passionately in the amber glow of the desk lamp.

I stood frozen in the shadows of the hallway, feeling the warmth from the food bag in my hand slowly fading away. I pulled out my phone, my fingers trembling as I dialed that familiar number one more time.

Mark’s ringtone blared loudly in the dead silence.

Through the gap in the door, I saw Mark jump, pushing Sarah away. He looked down at his phone, a flash of confusion crossing his face before he quickly regained his mask of calm. He looked up, and at that exact moment, his eyes locked onto mine as I stood tall in the doorway.

The Ending

Mark turned to stone. He began to stammer an explanation, but I didn’t give him the chance to utter a single cheap lie.

I didn’t cry, nor did I fly into a rage. I calmly walked into the room and placed the bag of food on the expensive oak desk, right next to Sarah’s designer handbag. I looked him straight in the eye and offered a thin, cold smile.

“The food is still warm, but the heart has already grown cold. Eat up, Mark; you’ll need the energy to sign the divorce papers. My lawyer will be sending them here tomorrow morning instead of dinner.”

I turned to Sarah, who was frantically adjusting her blouse in total humiliation. “Thank you for helping me realize this item has passed its expiration date. You can keep him.”

I turned my back and walked away, the click of my heels echoing sharply on the marble floor. As I stepped out of the building, I took a deep breath of the crisp New York air. I realized I had just shed a massive burden. Tonight, I wasn’t going home to cry; I was heading straight to my best friend’s apartment to uncork the most expensive bottle of wine we could find.

Freedom had never tasted so sweet.

The Aftermath

After exiting the building, I didn’t get into my car immediately. Instead, I stood across the street, looking up at the still-glowing 22nd floor. A few minutes later, I saw Mark’s silhouette dash out of the lobby, fumbling with his suit jacket and looking frantically around for me. My phone vibrated repeatedly in my pocket—a desperate plea for help.

I pulled out the phone, but not to answer. I hit “send” on a file I had prepared a week ago—copies of secret financial statements showing he had been using our joint family funds to pay for Sarah’s apartment.

Along with the file, I sent a short text:

“Did you think I came here because I was worried you were hungry? No. I came to see for myself if this scene matched the report my private investigator sent me. Congratulations, the performance was very convincing. Don’t bother coming home; the door code has been changed, and your luggage is waiting for you at the laundromat down the street.”

I watched Mark freeze in the middle of the sidewalk as he read the message. His face went pale, a total collapse under the vibrant New York neon lights. He realized in that moment that he hadn’t just lost a wife; he had lost the career and reputation I had spent years quietly helping him build.

I smiled and hailed a passing taxi. As the door closed, I blocked his number permanently. The city was beautiful tonight, and for the first time in years, I didn’t feel the need to wait for a phone call ever again.