She Traded Me For An Assistant Chapter 2

Vicky spent the night on the couch in a fit of silent fury.

The next morning, I cooked breakfast for two out of sheer habit. To my surprise, Vicky actually came down early, dressed for work, and offered to drive me to the office.

Ever since we married, she had insisted on keeping our relationship strictly secret at the firm, claiming we needed to maintain professional boundaries. We had never once commuted together; she wouldn't even let me be seen stepping out of her car within three blocks of the building.

I didn't bother refusing. I almost thought her sudden change of heart meant she was trying to extend an olive branch after my coldness last night.

Ten minutes into the drive, she pulled the sedan up to a leafy curb. Kyle was standing under a streetlamp, waving down at us with a familiar smirk.

She unlocked the doors, and Kyle smoothly opened the front passenger door, sliding into the seat beside her.

"Oh," Kyle said, turning around to look at me in the backseat, his eyes gleaming with clear provocation. "Joel! What a surprise. I’ve been taking Vicky’s car every morning for weeks, but this is the first time I’ve seen you in it."

Every morning.

My mind flashed back to a month ago during the heavy summer downpours. The rain had flooded the streets, and every ride-hailing app was completely jammed. I had gone to Vicky’s office, asking if she could give me a lift home. She had berated me viciously in front of her door, warning me never to mix personal favors with work, and told me to walk if I couldn't get a cab.

Later that evening, from the lobby window, I had watched Kyle get into her passenger seat. She had been more than willing to drive twenty miles out of her way in a torrential storm for him, while telling her husband to walk home in the dark.

"Kyle lives far out in the east end and doesn't have a vehicle yet," Vicky said glibly, checking her rear-view mirror. "It’s just convenient."

"Right," I said softly. "A star manager like Kyle deserves premium executive perks."

Kyle turned his head further, giving me a gloating grin. "Vicky actually offered to buy me a company car, but my driving isn't great. You’re not upset that she picks me up every day, are you, Joel?"

Before I could answer, Vicky cut in sharply. "It’s just a ride, Kyle. Joel isn't that fragile."

I looked out the side window, watching the blur of morning traffic. "I’m fine," I murmured.

Vicky frowned at my detached response. As the glass-and-steel façade of our corporate headquarters materialized in the distance, her voice turned sharp again.

"Pull over at the next corner," she ordered, tapping the dashboard. "Joel, you can get out there. It’s a short walk, and I don't want people gossiping if they see us arriving together."

Even after breaking her own rule to bring me along, she was still terrified of being associated with me.

"Oh, come on, Vicky," Kyle purred, placing a hand gently over hers on the gear shift. "We’re almost at the underground garage. Just let Joel ride down with us."

Vicky’s stiff demeanor melted instantly. "Alright. If you say so."

She would listen to a casual suggestion from him over a direct plea from me any day. Besides, if colleagues saw all three of us stepping out of the same elevator, no one would suspect a marriage; they would simply assume the executives were being generous to a senior developer.

I didn't care anymore. My only goal today was to get human resources to sign off on my resignation without causing an uproar.

In the underground parking structure, Kyle and Vicky walked ahead, their hands naturally interlacing as they headed toward the private executive elevator.

Upstairs, the office was buzzing with post-IPO tension. The company had hired a batch of senior tech interns the previous month, and today was the deadline to process their end-of-term evaluations. Out of seven, only two were being retained.

I took my resignation letter, slid it inside the thick stack of intern termination forms, and walked straight into the HR manager’s office.

The manager glanced at the top sheet, assumed I was simply dropping off the department paperwork, and signed the bottom of the stack without flipping through the back pages.

Handing the folder back, he smiled warmly. "You and Kyle are truly Vicky’s left and right hands, Joel. The company couldn't run without you guys."

I offered a small, polite smile and said nothing.