Bedmates Only, Yet He Cried When It Ended Chapter 1

After I was passed over for a management position for the fifth time, my mother called, once again nagging me to come home and let her set me up with someone.

Normally, I would have shut her down immediately.

But this time, I quietly agreed.

It was because, after losing the promotion to my arch-nemesis yet again, I’d gone to confront my boss—and boyfriend—determined to get answers. But I accidentally overheard him talking to someone else.

“You’ve watched Patty grow in this company. Why do you vote against her promotion every single time?”

A cynical laugh from Chad Shaw. “I give her the affection she wants, and I give the owner’s daughter the position she wants. I get to keep both of them, everyone gets something, and I maximize my assets. What’s wrong with that?”

The other person sounded impressed. “You’re cold-blooded. You keep her dangling with low-cost affection. Aren’t you afraid she’ll just get fed up and leave?”

Chad’s voice was casual, confident. “It’s been a few years in bed, that’s all. It was mutual. If she leaves, it’s no real loss.” He paused. “Besides, last month she’s the one who suggested we stop using protection. I don’t think she’s ready to let go just yet.”

He had ripped away the last shred of my dignity with his own hands.

Along with the five years of what I had carefully nurtured, what I had foolishly believed was love.

I tore the appeal form in my hands to shreds.

And bought a ticket for the next train home.

A position and a love that seven years of my life couldn’t earn? I was done with them.

* * *

Amber White snatched the torn pieces of paper from my hand.

“An appeal form? You’re going to appeal again?” she sneered, flicking the scraps of paper at my face. “Patty, you need to learn your place. Failing once or twice might be bad luck. But five times? Do you still think it’s just luck?”

“You’re out of your league. Appealing a dozen times won’t change that.”

I thought of the four previous appeal forms tucked away in my bottom drawer, each one neatly signed by Chad Shaw, each one citing ‘insufficient competence’ as the reason for failure. For the first time, it struck me as funny.

Every time, he’d placate me with excuses about fairness and avoiding favoritism. His words were like bitter medicine he forced down my throat, leaving me choked and silent.

In seven years, I had landed six multi-million dollar contracts for this company.

I was the top performer for thirteen consecutive quarters.

I’d ended up in the hospital with two bleeding ulcers from cleaning up my colleagues’ messes.

Not a single client I’d worked with had ever called me incompetent.

In the past, I would have argued with Amber, defending my abilities to the bitter end.

But now, I was just tired.

It would only end with us in front of Chad, where he would deliver the same lukewarm verdict.

“Past performance is irrelevant. You need to accept that your overall skills just don't measure up.”

And then, under the spell of his manipulation, I’d throw myself back into my work, desperate to prove myself, all while fulfilling his goal of getting maximum return on a minimal investment.

Only now did I realize that the one who was never treated fairly was me.

Chad Shaw, you really know how to play the game.

Tears blurred my vision, splashing onto my phone screen.

A notification lit it up.

[Come to my office.]

My dormant heart gave a weak flutter, a foolish spark of hope.

But as I reached the door, I heard Amber’s sobbing from inside.

“Alright, stop crying. I told you, you deserve this. I’ll handle her.”

Chad’s voice, so gentle and patient, was a dull knife twisting in my heart, churning up the rot inside.

Six months ago, Amber had spread a rumor that I’d slept with a client to close a deal. The client’s wife had found me and beaten me so badly my face was a swollen mess; I could only eat liquids for two days.

I had looked at him then with the same tearful vulnerability, begging him to clear my name.

His only response had been, “Don't be so dramatic and naive. This is the corporate world. You know the truth will come out eventually.”

Bitterness seeped into the old wounds. I had to admit, even his so-called affection had always been rationed.

I numbly pushed the door open.

Chad’s hand, which had been wiping Amber’s tears, froze. He glared at me, annoyed. “I hear you’re unhappy with Director White’s promotion. Has anyone ever told you that careers aren’t built on gossip? Is it so hard to admit you’re not good enough?”

I stared at him, stunned. “I didn’t…”

He cut me off before I could finish. “A one-thousand-word self-criticism. And a public apology at this afternoon’s meeting.”

A single unconfirmed rumor, and I was being ordered to write an apology.

It made all the vicious, actual rumors he’d heard about me—and ignored—seem like a sick joke.

Before, I could have told myself he was just keeping his professional and private lives separate.

But now, knowing I was nothing more than his cheapest asset, I lost the will to even argue.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked down, a small, humorless smile on my lips.

“Yes. You’re right.”

“I admit I’m not good enough. I’ll apologize.”