I'm Not A HOMEWRECKER

It was three in the afternoon when Sebastian Hale and I returned from lunch. Being his personal assistant meant being his shadow. That was what he called me once. His shadow. I handled his schedule, his meetings, his coffee, his calls, his documents, and sometimes, the quiet spaces between his long silences. My office was right next to his, close enough for him to call me whenever he needed me. For work. For reminders. For coffee. Or simply because he wanted me there. Sebastian had dropped me at the office entrance ten minutes earlier before telling me he had a personal matter to attend to. I did not ask what it was. I had learned that Sebastian only shared what he wanted to share, and somehow, that made people want to know more. Sebastian Hale. Forty-five years old. Founder and CEO of Hale Construction Group. Six-foot-three, broad-shouldered, disciplined, composed, and painfully unreadable when he wanted to be. To everyone else, he was the kind of man people lowered their voices around. Cold. Strict. Impossible to impress. No one crossed Sebastian Hale unless they had already made peace with unemployment. But with me, he was different. Softer. Quieter. Almost gentle. Sometimes, it felt as if the man everyone feared disappeared the moment he closed his office door and turned to me. I was scrolling through his schedule on my phone when my office door was pushed open so violently it hit the wall. I looked up. “Ma’am, please.” Susy, our office secretary, stood behind the woman with a pale face. “You can’t just go in.” The woman ignored her. She walked into my office like she owned the building, dressed in a cream blazer, black pencil skirt, and heels sharp enough to sound angry against the marble floor. Her makeup was heavy, her red lipstick too bold, too perfect, too practiced. She looked like a woman who had spent years learning how not to fall apart in public. “Get out,” she said. Susy froze. The woman turned her head slightly. “I said leave us alone.” Susy looked at me, terrified. I gave her a small nod, though I had no idea what was happening. The door closed behind her. The woman faced me again. Her arms folded across her chest. Her eyes moved over me slowly, from my blouse to my face, as if she was trying to decide whether I was worth her hatred. I rose from my chair. “Can I help you?” Her lips curved, but it was not a smile. “So this is you.” I frowned. “Excuse me?” “The assistant.” The way she said it made the word sound filthy. I inhaled slowly, forcing myself to stay calm. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ve met.” She laughed under her breath. Cold. Bitter. Poisoned. “Still playing dumb?” My fingers tightened around my phone. Who the hell was this woman? And who gave her permission to burst into my office like this? “Ma’am,” I said carefully, “if you have an issue with the company, you may speak to our front desk or schedule an appointment.” Her eyes flashed. “Oh, I don’t have an issue with the company.” She stepped closer. “I have an issue with you.” Before I could respond, footsteps rushed down the corridor. Then Sebastian appeared at my door. For the first time since I had known him, he did not look composed. His face was pale. His jaw was tight. And his eyes were fixed on the woman standing in front of me. “Vivienne,” he said. “What are you doing here?” Vivienne. I looked at him. Then at her. The name landed between us like broken glass. She turned to him with a smile that looked like a wound. “Oh, now you remember I exist?” Sebastian’s voice dropped. “Come to my office.” “No.” “Vivienne.” “Don’t use that tone with me.” Her voice cracked, but only for a second. “Not in front of her.” Her. Me. I stood there, stunned, my mind trying to catch up with something my heart already seemed to understand. Sebastian stepped into the room. “Don’t make a scene here.” Vivienne laughed. “A scene?” she repeated. “You should have thought about that before making your assistant more important than your wife.” My breath stopped. Wife. The word did not shout. It did not need to. It simply entered the room and destroyed everything. Sebastian closed his eyes for a brief second. I gripped the edge of my desk. Wife. I looked at him again, waiting for him to deny it. Waiting for him to laugh. Waiting for him to say she was mistaken, unstable, dramatic, anything. But he said nothing. Vivienne looked at me one last time. Her eyes were full of hatred. And worse than hatred. Pain. Then she turned and walked out of my office. Sebastian followed her. The door closed. Silence returned. But it was no longer the same silence. I sank into my chair, my legs suddenly too weak to hold me. My phone screen was still glowing in my hand. Sebastian’s schedule stared back at me. Meetings. Calls. Dinner appointment. Personal matter. I laughed once, but there was no humor in it. My chest felt tight. My hands felt cold. And only one thought kept circling inside my head. What the hell just happened?