Steven laughed loudly, regaling his buddies with tales of his week-long resort fling with his mistress…

Sarah opened the door but blocked his way, smirking strangely. She looked at him with contempt, almost arrogance.

She wasn’t letting him in. “Here to say goodbye?” she asked, eyebrow raised mockingly. “I’m home. What, not happy to see your husband?” “I’ll be happy to see my ex-husband in divorce court. Papers are filed. Here’s your summons.”

She handed him a document, which he took automatically. “Want me to give you Lisa’s address? She came looking for you at the office today. Thought you were the company owner for some reason. But Andrew, the CEO, called me in, and we explained to Lisa that she can marry you once the divorce is final. Good luck taking her to Paris on unemployment checks. But you should try. Maybe Lisa will work two or three jobs to keep you comfortable.”

Steven stood there, trying to process it. Because of Lisa, he’d lost his job and his home? No way. Sarah would forgive him. She’d beg him to stay.

“Sarah, what’s with all this nonsense? Aren’t you ashamed, kicking out your own husband? Who else will love you like I do?” “No one will love me like you, that’s for sure. And I’m ashamed I put up with you so long. My only family is my brother. Don’t try to claim you’re kin.”

Steven stepped forward to hug her—she used to melt when he did, rare as it was, usually when he wanted something. But Sarah recoiled with a disgusted smile. Someone else was in the apartment. Andrew, the company CEO, stepped into the hallway from the kitchen.

He stood beside Sarah. “Steven, your termination papers are signed and waiting in HR. Pick up your records tomorrow. Don’t come back here. Sarah’s brother arrives tomorrow, and until then, she’s under my protection. Go to your mistress. Maybe she’ll let you crash, since you took her on that resort trip. And hand over the keys to Mike’s garage. You’re done there,” Sarah said coolly.

It finally hit Steven—he’d lost control. Sarah wasn’t taking him back. He’d lost everything.

His belongings were in the suitcase from his trip. Numbly, he pulled out the keys to the apartment and garage and handed them to Sarah.

She took them, stepped back, and locked the door. Steven stood there, dazed.

He had no idea what to do. He had no place of his own. He’d only latched onto Sarah for the apartment.

Now what? He trudged down the stairs, wondering where to go. He remembered Andrew’s jab and headed to Lisa’s, clinging to a faint hope.

Maybe she really loved him. They’d had such a great time. But Lisa laughed in his face.

She mocked him not just as a failed “businessman” but as a pathetic lover. It was a gut punch, literal and figurative. He was left with nothing.

Meanwhile, Sarah sipped tea with Andrew.

They talked openly. Andrew had always wondered why she took the janitor job.

Did she need money that badly? Why couldn’t her husband work? She was an excellent accountant. He’d hired her as a cleaner out of pity, thinking she had debts. Then he agreed to hire Steven, wanting to help this gentle woman with sad eyes.

He’d almost asked her what was wrong—why she worked two jobs, why Steven slacked off. But he stopped himself. It wasn’t his place, and they weren’t close enough for such questions. Sarah was always guarded, never oversharing…