Claire told herself not to mind. She had enough to do. There were bills, groceries, repairs, birthdays, family obligations, and Darren’s endless work emergencies. He never noticed when she rewrote his emails, or when she helped him prepare for meetings he was too proud to admit scared him.
Then, one rainy Tuesday, an old colleague named Nina called. A marketing agency needed emergency freelance help on a corporate account. The project was remote, short-term, and confidential. Claire almost said no out of habit. Then she looked across the room at Darren’s muddy shoes on the carpet and his lunchbox waiting to be packed.
She said yes. To avoid awkward questions, she used her maiden name: Claire Ellison. On paper, she became C. Ellison, a freelance strategist who worked quietly in the background and asked for no attention. The client turned out to be Northstar Foods, the largest account at Darren’s company. Claire stared at the brief for a full minute before she realized it. Then she laughed once, softly, because life had a cruel sense of humor.