At the company gala, my wife shares a wine glass with her male assistant.
I say nothing—yet quietly dismantle her world. By night’s end, I pull all my investments from her firm. By dawn, two – thirds of her business partners cut ties, pending orders void.
When the divorce papers land on Natalie’s desk, she rages: “A sip of Brandon’s wine—why destroy me?”
I meet her glare, voice ice: “Because one sip was enough to shatter trust. And I don’t rebuild what’s broken.”