Wife Reclaims Her Life

I arranged the last of the silver cutlery beside the wedding china we hadn't used since our second anniversary. The candlelight cast a warm glow across our dining room, transforming the ordinary space into something magical. Five years of marriage deserved celebration, even if things between Ryan and me had been... strained lately.

My fingers trembled slightly as I placed the final red rose in the crystal vase. I'd spent all afternoon preparing his favorite meal—beef Wellington with truffle mashed potatoes. The dessert, a dark chocolate soufflé, was timed to perfection. Everything had to be perfect tonight.

"This will work," I whispered to myself, smoothing down the navy blue dress I'd bought specially for the occasion. It had been months since Ryan had really looked at me—truly seen me—and tonight I was determined to remind him of the woman he'd fallen in love with.

I checked my watch. Ryan had texted that he'd be home by seven, which gave me just enough time to light the candles and pour the wine. As I struck the match, I heard it—laughter. His laughter. The rich, uninhibited kind that had become so rare in our home.

My heart lifted for a moment. Was he watching something funny on his phone? At least he was in a good mood. But then I realized the sound was coming from his home office. He must have slipped in while I was busy in the kitchen.

"No way! You actually got the legendary phoenix pet?" Ryan's voice carried through the wall, followed by more laughter.

I froze, the match burning down toward my fingers until the heat jolted me back to awareness. I quickly blew it out, a small tendril of smoke rising between us like a question mark.

That wasn't the voice of a man watching videos. He was talking to someone. On our anniversary.

"That's not fair, Vicky. You always get the rare stuff first," he continued, his voice taking on a playful, teasing quality I hadn't heard directed at me in... I couldn't remember how long.

Vicky. Victoria Snow. His ex-girlfriend.

Something cold and heavy settled in my stomach, replacing the nervous excitement that had been fluttering there all day. I told myself I was overreacting. It was probably innocent. A quick work call, perhaps. But my feet were already moving toward his office, drawn by an instinct stronger than reason.

The door wasn't fully closed. Through the narrow gap, I could see Ryan leaning back in his leather chair, feet propped on the desk, his face illuminated by the blue glow of his computer screen. He was smiling—that genuine, crinkly-eyed smile that used to be mine.

"I sent you some extra coins yesterday," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Did you get them?"

A feminine laugh filtered through the speakers. "I did. Very generous of you to share your resources with me, Mr. Mitchell."

"Well, what's mine is yours in the pet kingdom," Ryan replied with a chuckle. "My character's