His Hidden Lover, I Choose a New Life

I'd pulled overtime all the way to midnight, and while I waited for my documents to print, I mindlessly scrolled through short-form videos. In one clip, a girl clutching a bright, wrapped bouquet was waiting at the airport exit. The second she spotted who she'd been waiting for, she launched herself straight into his arms. He laughed and swept her up in a tight, full embrace. The caption on the video read: My rock is finally home. I froze, blood turning to ice in my veins. That man in the video? He'd told me good night just one hour earlier. I dialed Harold's number, my voice ice-calm as I asked, "Where are you?" Thumping bar music blared so loud at his end it almost drowned out his voice, and he sounded totally unbothered, like he had nothing to hide. "Just grabbing dinner with my riding buddies. You're so far away, you know? They're the only ones around to keep me company right now." Before I could get a word in, a bright, pealing laugh cut through the line from his end. "Harold, it's your turn to drink! Quit dragging your feet." It was the exact same voice as the girl in the video. I ended the call. I sat there, dead still, for half an hour, before I picked my phone back up to dial a different number. "I'm turning down the California branch posting. I'm coming back home, and I'll agree to the arranged marriage." Charlie, at the other end of the line, went quiet for a second, then joked, "You worked your ass off to get to where you are now. You were this close to getting the old man's approval. Why throw it all away now?" When I didn't say a word, his tone shifted immediately. "What's wrong, Natalie? Did that Harold kid hurt you?" My nose stung, and I had to bite back tears. My gaze fell on the framed photo on my desk, where Harold was smiling so soft and warm. Right then, my phone pinged with a new message. Harold: Working late again? I already booked you a car. Go home and rest early, be good. I dropped my gaze. After a long stretch of silence, I spoke into the phone. "Forget it. We've been together for five years. I want to go see him in person and get an explanation." After five years together, Harold was such a deep, unshakable part of my life I could never just cut him out. I squeezed my phone so tight my knuckles whitened. "Charlie, my head's all messed up right now. Either way, keep an eye out for a better candidate for the California branch manager position, yeah?" Charlie said a few more gentle, comforting words before we hung up. Sitting in the car on my way home, I pulled that short video back up again. There was no way I'd misidentified him. The shirt Harold was wearing in the video? I'd picked it out myself. When I'd dropped him off at the airport, I'd even tied his tie for him with my own hands. I'd wanted to surprise him with the transfer news, so I'd only whispered in his ear, "Don't be sad. We'll see each other again real soon." He hadn't said anything back, just pulled me into a tight, warm hug. He glanced back again and again every couple of steps as he walked to the security checkpoint. The sadness in his eyes had been real, no faking that. So how was it that after just a two-hour flight, he was smiling so widely, so happily, holding another woman in his arms? I tapped open the comment section. Someone had asked the girl if the guy was her boyfriend. She'd replied openly: [He's just my great buddy!] Her profile was full of photos from group rides. As it turned out, Harold had loved riding motorcycles ever since college. When he'd first transferred to the California branch, he'd known nobody in the city, so he'd joined a local forum to find a group of riding buddies. He'd never hidden any of that from me. What he'd never mentioned, though, was that this girl was part of that group. The next day, I grabbed my already packed suitcase and headed to the airport. The giddy excitement I'd felt about surprising him was long gone. After I landed in California, I went straight to the Sullivan Group building. The receptionist walked over and took my suitcase from me. "Director Stewart! I heard HQ was sending over a new operations director a while back... who would've guessed it was you?" She gave me a playful wink. "Mr. Scott's upstairs. I'll walk you up." I offered her a small smile and stepped into the elevator, but my breath started coming fast and shallow without me even realizing it. Ever since Harold was transferred to California, we'd been doing long-distance for two whole years. We'd both been grinding nonstop in our own lanes that whole time, and now, finally, I could stand here out in the open, looking up at the same sky as him. The elevator glided to a smooth stop on the 19th floor. The second the doors rolled open, a pair of eyes locked straight onto me. The receptionist gestured to the pretty girl in a Chanel-style suit standing in front of us and made the introduction. "This is Linda Nash, Mr. Scott's new assistant." Then she turned back to me, about to introduce me next. "And this is..." I spoke up before she got the words out. "I'm Natalie Stewart, the new operations director transferred from headquarters." The girl opposite me hesitated for a beat, then greeted me with a quiet "Director Stewart." My heart, which had been hammering in my throat this whole time, sank straight to the pit of my stomach. I knew that face. I knew that voice. I'd spent the entire last night scrolling through every single post on her social media profile. "Nat? What are you doing here?" Harold's voice rang out right behind me. I spun around to look at him. There was only shock in his eyes, no joy at all.