You Lost Me Forever, Ex-Wife

The day I received my recovery certificate from depression, I went to Gabriela Petersen’s company—something I rarely did.

Separated by a glass partition in the conference room, I couldn't resist dialing her number.

But I saw her assistant, sitting beside her, pick up her phone and hang up immediately.

Then, he expertly unlocked the screen and typed.

A message labeled "Wife" popped up. [In a meeting, don't call unless it's important.]

I stared at that line for a long time.

When I looked up again, the man was affectionately adjusting her slightly askew necklace in front of everyone.