They Humiliated Me in Front of 33 Relatives — A Week Later, They Were Begging Me for One Chance

21

The Night My Husband Called Me the Nanny

The mirror in the master bedroom was framed in gold leaf, an antique David had insisted on buying to match the “prestige” of his position as Vice President of Sales. In its reflection, I adjusted the strap of my white silk dress. It was simple.

Minimalist. But the silk was heavy, Italian, and cost more than David’s first car. I’d bought it with the dividend check from my private investment portfolio—a portfolio David knew nothing about.

“Are you wearing that?”

David emerged from the walk-in closet, struggling with his cufflinks. He looked at me with a familiar mix of boredom and irritation. “It’s elegant, David,” I said, smoothing the fabric over my hips.

“It’s plain,” he corrected, turning back to admire his own tuxedo. “Tonight is the Apex Innovations Annual Gala, Maya. It’s not a church picnic.

There will be investors there. The Board of Directors. People who matter.”

He emphasized “matter” as if to clarify I didn’t fall into that category.

“I’ll stay in the background,” I promised, picking up my clutch. “I’m just here to support you.”

“Good,” David grunted. “Because rumor has it the new owner—the ‘Ghost Chairman’ who bought the company out of bankruptcy six months ago—might actually show up tonight.

I need to make a good impression. If I play my cards right, Henderson might tap me for the Senior VP role.”

I hid a smile behind my hand. “I hope you impress them, honey.”

David didn’t see the irony.

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My daughter and son-in-law had been living rent-free in my lakeside home for three years. During dinner, my daughter’s mother-in-law spoke excitedly about “the luxury resort our family is about to build.” My daughter smiled and slid a stack of papers toward me: “You just need to sign here so the bank can finalize everything.” I picked up the pen but didn’t sign right away. When I turned to page 13, my daughter hurriedly glanced at her husband.