My husband asked me to stay home while he attended a prestigious gala evening alone. That evening, as he took the stage, ready for the presentation that would define his career, I stood next to his CEO. And when the screen lit up, it wasn’t his work that appeared. It was his betrayal.
I should have noticed the red flags earlier. Looking back, I can say that they were everywhere, woven into the fabric of my marriage like invisible threads, unnoticeable until the right light fell on them.
Ryan and I met at university. He was charming, but academically… well, let’s just say he wouldn’t have graduated without me. I proofread his papers, explained marketing concepts, and sometimes did his assignments myself. I told myself it didn’t matter. We were a team.
We got married at 27, had two beautiful children, and I stepped away from my career to raise them. Ryan was in marketing, and since I had experience in that field, I helped him when necessary.
I wrote reports, prepared presentations, and even brainstormed campaign strategies. He would thank me with a quick kiss and say, ‘You’re amazing, baby,’ and then rush off to work.
At first, I was eager to meet his colleagues. I asked about work events and suggested we attend them together. But every time, Ryan had an excuse. ‘It’s just boring networking’ or ‘You deserve a break, baby. Stay home and relax with the kids.’ At first, it seemed tactful, as if he wanted to protect me from unnecessary stress.
Until that Sunday in the park.
I was watching our children chase each other across the grass when an elegant woman approached me. Her designer heels sank slightly into the mud as she smiled warmly at me.
‘You must be Ryan’s sister,’ she said, extending her hand.
I blinked, taken aback. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Oh! My apologies.’ She laughed with relief. ‘I’m Evelyn, the CEO of the company your brother works for. He’s one of our best marketers! He speaks so highly of you and your nephews.’
The world seemed to tilt.
‘My nephews?’ I repeated, my voice eerily calm.
‘Yes, he always talks about how much you love babysitting them.’
I felt my heart pound against my ribs, but I forced myself to smile. ‘That’s… interesting.’
Evelyn must have noticed something in my expression because she tilted her head. ‘Are you all right?’
I took a sharp breath. ‘Evelyn, I need to show you something.’
I took out my phone and scrolled through photos from our wedding day. Then another one, with Ryan holding our newborn son. Then another one, showing our family of four, all smiling at the camera.
I turned the screen towards her. ‘Ryan isn’t my brother. He’s my husband. And these aren’t my nephews. They’re our children.’
A silence hung between us.
Evelyn’s smile faded. She looked at the photos, then back at me, and her expression changed from confusion to something else. Understanding. Shock.
‘Fate,’ she said slowly, carefully. ‘How could such a mistake have happened?’
Evelyn’s expression darkened, her lips pressed into a thin line. ‘He told us he wasn’t married.’
Those words hit me like a punch in the stomach. I could barely breathe.
‘Single?’ I whispered. ‘He… he said that?’
Evelyn nodded slowly, her gaze full of pity and anger. ‘He never mentioned a wife. Or children. We always assumed he was just… focused on his career.’
A bitter laugh escaped my throat. ‘His career?’ I wiped my eyes, my hands shaking. ‘I built his career! I helped him with every project! And he erased me.’
Evelyn’s eyes flashed. ‘Fate, come with me. Let’s talk.’
I hesitated. My children ran up to me, their laughter breaking through my racing thoughts. I couldn’t fall apart. Not now.
Evelyn noticed my indecision and softened. ‘We can take them to a safe place. There’s a café nearby.’
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.
My children were eating cupcakes in the café, while Evelyn and I sat in a quiet corner. I let it all spill out over my steaming cup of coffee.
‘Before I had children, I worked as a marketer,’ I began, squeezing the cup with my fingers. ‘I left my job to be a stay-at-home mum, but I still loved that work. So when Ryan needed help, I helped him. I wrote reports, developed campaigns, created presentations. I didn’t think twice — I believed we were a team.’
Evelyn listened, her expression unreadable.
‘And then the promotions came,’ I continued, my voice trembling. ‘Every time he received recognition, I told myself that it was our success. That one day he would introduce me to his colleagues, that he would acknowledge my work.’ I exhaled sharply. ‘But he never did. He took everything I created and made it his own.’
There was a silence between us before Evelyn finally spoke.
‘Do you have any of those strategies with you?’
I frowned. ‘What?’
She leaned forward, her eyes shining. ‘Evidence, Fate. Do you have evidence?’
I stared at her, my heart pounding.
Yes. I do.
That night, while the children slept, I sat on the living room floor, surrounded by papers, folders, and my laptop.
Every campaign. Every report. Every idea.
All of it was mine.
And I knew exactly what I was going to do with it.
On Monday morning, I walked into Evelyn’s office, my heart pounding in my chest. Part of me still couldn’t believe I was doing this. But as soon as I laid my work in front of her — reports, campaigns, strategies — all my doubts disappeared.
Evelyn leafed through the documents, raising her eyebrows with each page. ‘Destiny… this is incredible.’ She looked up at me. ‘You’re talented. Really talented. Did Ryan pass this off as his own work?’
I nodded.
She exhaled, shaking her head. “Unbelievable. You deserve recognition, Destiny. And I think I know how to give it to you.”
I leaned forward, curiosity piqued. ‘How?’
A familiar smile slowly spread across her face. ‘Would you like to be our special guest at the gala concert?’
I tensed. ‘The gala concert? You mean the one Ryan…’
‘Yes,’ she interrupted. ‘I have a proposal. Not only will we reveal the truth, but I want you to present it.’
My breath caught for a moment.
Then I smiled. ‘Let’s do it.’
On the night of the gala concert, I stood backstage, my pulse racing. The air buzzed with excitement as industry leaders, executives, and employees filled the hall. I peeked out from behind the curtain and spotted Ryan at the first table, looking elegant in his tailor-made suit. Completely unaware.
He walked onto the stage, flashing his confident smile, ready for the big moment.
‘Good evening, everyone,’ Ryan began, picking up the microphone. ‘Today, I am proud to present…’
The massive screen behind him flickered.
Ryan frowned and paused. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
The audience gasped.
Instead of his polished marketing presentation, images began to appear on the screen: our wedding day, me in my white dress, Ryan kissing me. Our family photos, holidays, our children laughing in his arms.
Ryan’s face drained of colour. ‘It’s a prank,’ he stammered, his voice trembling. ‘My sister — she likes to joke around.’
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Confusion. Suspicion.
Then Evelyn stepped onto the stage, her heels clicking purposefully on the floor.
‘No joke, Ryan,’ she said coldly, gesturing towards the screen. ‘Just introducing our new employee, a highly qualified marketing specialist.’
She turned to the audience and smiled.
‘Dear colleagues, please welcome Destiny. She is Ryan’s wife.’
The room fell silent.
And then the whispering began.
I stood next to Evelyn, the whispering in the audience growing louder, but my attention was fixed on one person.
Ryan.
He stood frozen in place, his face pale under the bright stage lights. His jaw was clenched, his eyes darting between me, Evelyn, and the incriminating photos still displayed on the huge screen.
I took a deep breath, my hands steady, though my heart was pounding. ‘Ryan, do you have anything you’d like to say to me or your colleagues?’
A deadly silence fell over the hall. Every pair of eyes in the audience was fixed on him.
Ryan swallowed. And then, instead of apologising, instead of trying to justify himself, he asked mockingly, ‘What are you trying to achieve?’
‘The truth!’ I replied defiantly.
For the first time, I saw something crack in his expression. Not regret. Not guilt. But fear.
And then, without another word, Ryan turned on his heel and walked away.
A stunned murmur rippled through the crowd. He wasn’t going to fight. He wasn’t even going to try to defend himself.
I took a sharp breath, forcing myself to stay calm, though my voice trembled slightly. ‘And now,’ I said, turning back to the audience, ‘let me show you all the work I’ve been doing for years.’
With a click, my real presentation appeared on the screen. I walked the audience through the marketing campaigns, the strategies I had developed, and the reports that had earned Ryan’s praise.
When I finished, Ryan was gone.
By the next morning, his work was gone too.
And in his place? Me.
After the presentation, Evelyn came up to me and handed me a contract. ‘Welcome to the team, Destiny. You’ve earned it.’
I took the pen, exhaled, and signed my name.
Then I smiled. ‘Finally, I’ve earned it.’
For many years, I thought I had a strong ally by my side. Someone who valued me, who saw my worth.
But Ryan wasn’t an ally. He was a parasite, feeding off my talent for his own success.
