When Love Becomes a Cage (Melanie)

Clyde had finally agreed to let me file for employees' compensation, and I wasn't about to save him any money. Plus, I had my reasons this time. Something about how Clyde looked at me today felt different, reminiscent of old times. That evening, I organized all the paperwork carefully and sent it to the finance department.

It took Kristin half an hour to respond to my message.

Kristin: [Is this your medical report? Mr. Patterson approved the reimbursement?]

I replied: [Yes, I'll come to see you tomorrow.]

I could imagine Kristin's shock. After all, my illness was a secret to everyone at the company.

Kristin was a veteran at the Patterson Group, handpicked by Clyde's grandfather to lend him a hand, so I trusted her, knowing she wouldn't gossip. And I believed she would tell him the truth if Clyde asked her.

I gently clutched my phone, fixing my eyes on my chat with Clyde.

I wondered what Clyde would look like if he knew I was sick.

The next day, I went to the finance office with my documents. Kristin was staring at me with the reimbursement forms, completely lost for words. "Melanie, is this for real? I thought you were joking. Are you sure you want the company to cover this?"

I nodded firmly. Of course, I was sure. Otherwise, I'd be paying out of pocket.

Kristin didn't make it difficult for me. She showed me how to organize the paperwork. But when she saw my documents, she paused. "How young are you to be dealing with this? When did you have the surgery?"

The doctor had rebandaged me just the day before to prevent my wound from opening, and it was all detailed in the report. If Kristin could see it, I was sure anyone who wanted to look into it could find out.

I ignored her question but asked, "Did Clyde tell you he approved my reimbursement?"

She nodded. "Said it counts as a work-related injury."

"He didn't ask anything else?" Seeing Kristin shake her head, I had nothing more to say.

If he had just asked one more question, he might have learned about my condition, but he didn't. I let out a deep sigh, my hopes finally dashed.

He didn't care about me, nor was he interested in why I asked for reimbursement. My medical report had been sitting where he usually dropped his car keys for months.

Back then, I had hoped he might act like the heroes in novels when they found out their wife was sick, filled with regret and turning over a new leaf. But he didn't even glance at my medical report, which I eventually threw away.

My relationship with Clyde wasn't a secret at the company. And he had brought quite a few women around. Nearly everyone knew my husband was cheating on me. Yet, he never let go, and the office was rife with gossip.

Kristin looked at my documents and then at me with sympathy. "Melanie, you're talented and gorgeous. Why put up with this? You should be stacking your savings, you know? Just look at Kayla."

This time, I wholeheartedly agreed. Perhaps it was the wisdom of experience speaking. All love was transient. Only money was real. Finally, I understood.

Suddenly, I envied Kayla, who had the most clear-sighted view at the prime of her life.

Before I left, I made Kristin promise not to tell Clyde.

Kristin looked puzzled. "Maybe if he knew, he'd change?"

I shrugged helplessly. "Clyde won't change. He'd think I'm playing the victim. Better to leave it."

He would never know, and maybe that was for the best.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

After leaving the finance department, I saw Kayla flaunting her new designer bag to others with pride.

"It's a limited edition. I've waited in line for a long time. You need to spend millions a year to get a slot."

"Yeah, Clyde helped me reserve it. He chose the color. Pretty, isn't it?"

When I approached, Kayla seemed to notice me, exclaiming dramatically. "Melanie, you came to finance for reimbursement? A few hundred bucks worth the trouble? Are you that hard up for cash?"

She held her chin high, her eyes

gleaming with triumph. Then, in a seemingly concerned whisper, she said, "After all, you're still Mrs. Patterson in the name. Pinching pennies like this, you'll make Clyde the laughingstock."

My gaze fell on her handbag, and I nodded earnestly. "You're quite the big spender, richer than Mrs. Patterson here."

"Hmph, don't look down on people. It isn't part of your marital assets." She emphasized "marital assets" particularly strongly, probably still smarting from a previous encounter.

Her voice rose a notch again. "This bag, I bought it with my salary. I've been working hard, and Mr. Patterson gave me a bonus. Don't get any wrong ideas. Clyde just helped me reserve it, but I paid myself."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud. An intern managing to afford a luxury bag worth tens of thousands? Clyde must be loaded.

"What are you laughing at? Who do you think you're looking down on?" Kayla resembled a cat with its tail stepped on, ready to explode any moment.

I wiped away the tears from

laughing so hard and looked at her

from head to toe. "Even for an intern working hard in bed counts as being industrious. Good job, indeed. Please keep up the good work, or who knows who'll be next in line."