Shirley’s life falls apart when she sees her husband, Brody, with another woman at work.
After he threatens to divorce her and take everything, Shirley finds herself homeless and heartbroken. But then, someone enters her life and changes everything.
Shirley watched in disbelief as her husband, Brody, openly flirted with his secretary, Lila, in their office.
Her hands trembled, dropping the spoons in her hand to the floor, yet they seemed not to notice her at all, “Brody, what’s going on here?” Shirley confronted them, her voice cutting through the silence of the office.
Brody feigned innocence, “What’s your problem, Shirley? We’re just discussing work.” “This is how you discuss work?”
Shirley’s voice was laced with anger.
“By putting your hands up her skirt? In front of everyone?” “Don’t make a scene,” Brody warned, but Shirley was resolute,”We need to talk. In private.
Now!” she demanded.
Brody’s anger flared. “You don’t get to order me around. I’m filing for divorce today.
I’ll take the house.” “You can’t take my house. It was my parents’.
You have no right!” smirked. “Don’t forget you’re married to a lawyer.
Just watch me. I’ll move Lila in, and we’ll celebrate on every surface in every single room.”
Shocked and hurt, Shirley could barely respond as Brody pushed his wedding ring into the cake she had brought to share with him. “Maybe you can pawn this for a dog house,” he sneered, leaving with Lila.
Shirley was left in a daze, surrounded by whispers of pity.
Later, alone in a cheap hotel room, she couldn’t help but cry as she thought about her and Brody’s relationship.
How had the man she vowed to spend her life with transformed into this stranger? Had she really let herself go? Was it her fault that Brody had turned to Lila?
Overwhelmed with emotions, she punched a pillow, hoping to free herself of some anger and pain, when a knock at her door interrupted her.
Expecting it to be a staff member, she opened the door and was surprised to find a strange man.
“I heard… I thought I heard a cry for help,” he stammered. “Well, you heard wrong. Unless you can help me keep my house from the husband who’s divorcing me, go away,” she snapped, her voice brittle.
The man’s eyebrows rose, taken aback by her sharpness.
Then, he looked at her from head to toe and said, “I can’t help with that. But now, I can see why he’s divorcing you.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away. Fueled by anger, Shirley followed him to his room, refusing to let his comment slide.
“What did you say to me?” she demanded, blocking his door from closing.
The man tried to clarify, “I was concerned about the noise.” “I clearly know what you meant!” she retorted. “I may not look perfect, but that doesn’t give you the right to judge me.”
The man softly agreed, showing a hint of regret, “You’re right. You don’t deserve that.” Shirley was momentarily stunned, the fight draining out of her as his words registered.
But before she could process or respond, he quickly stepped back, shutting the door in her face with a firmness that allowed no room for further conversation.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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