I Upgraded To First Class And Downgraded Him To Ex-Husband Chapter 06

I Upgraded To First Class And Downgraded Him To Ex-Husband Chapter 06

Early the next morning, Caleb arrived at my old tech company with dark circles under his eyes.

He had no access card and just bullied straight through the turntile.

The receptionist stopped him cold.

“Sir, I need a visitor pass.”

“I’m here for Tessa Mitchell! I’m her husband!” Caleb shouted loudly.

The receptionist flipped open the logbook.

“Sorry, Ms. Mitchell resigned last week.”

“She no longer works here.”

Caleb’s face went slack.

“No—she makes thirty thousand a month—she wouldn’t just quit!”

He shoved past without regard for being stopped, shamelessly blocking the office entrance.

He grabbed my former department head, demanding answers.

“Where did she go? Did she run off with my money?”

The department head was a sharp, no-nonsense woman.

She wrenched his hand off her arm.

“Run off with your money? Caleb, have you no shame?”

“Tessa worked at this company for five years. Her year end bonuses alone started at six figures.”

“You bring home eight grand a month before your car payment. What money could she possibly run off with?”

Caleb’s face flushed bright red.

“That’s still marital property!”

The department head let out a contemptuous snort.

She called security directly.

“Get this man out of here. He’s seriously disrupting office operations.”

The security guards stepped forward and seized Caleb by the arms.

The department head pointed at the jacket Caleb was wearing.

“Looks to me like that Armani was bought for you by Tessa just last month.”

“Strutting around every day in designer clothes bought by a woman, and now you’re putting on this tough act?”

“Get lost. Now.”

The guards dragged Caleb out of the lobby by the arms and dumped him on the sun-blased front steps.

Consumed by shame and fury, Caleb couldn’t even lift his head.

He picked himself up and slunk toward the subway station.

He went back to the cheap basement he’d rented.

The moment he pushed the door open, the stench of mildew hit him.

Jenna sat on that bare, hard mattress, furiously fanning herself with a fan.

“God, you’re finally back! This dump doesn’t even have AC. I’m dying of heat!”

“I’m breaking out in heat rash! Hurry up and send me money. I want to go stay in a hotel!”

His mother lay on the other bed, moaning and groaning.

“Caleb, this basement is way too damp. My back pain is killing me.”

“Hurry and go buy some ribs to stew into soup. I need to build up my strength.”

Caleb stood in the doorway.

He stared at the chaos filling the room.

No clean laundry. No hot meals cooked.

Just two mouths constantly opening to demand things from him.

He patted his pocket. Only a few dozen dollars in change were inside.

He finally couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Shut up!” he roared.

The room fell instantly silent.

His mother and Jenna were both startled by him.

“No money—what hotel? What ribs?”

“If you want a hotel, go earn the money and stay there yourself! If you want food, go buy it yourself!”

Caleb slammed the door and stormed out.

A thousand miles away, in a coastal city.

I pushed open the sliding glass door of my apartment.

I’d used the new number to register a new WhatsApp account.

My contacts list held only a handful of core clients and headhunters.

My phone buzzed.

It was an email from a headhunting firm.

“Dear Ms. Mitchell, congratulations. You have passed the final interview for the Regional Director position.”

“The official offer letter with a highly competitive salary has been sent to your inbox. Please check it.”

I opened the email and glanced at the number in the compensation line.

It was double what I had been making before.

I picked up the glass of lemonade on the table and raised it toward the glittering ocean.

To freedom.