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No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return

Xiao Xiaosu

I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie. "The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single." The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate. Gray’s text to her was the final blow: "Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade." I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance. How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury. I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street." "I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray." If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world.

Modern Revenge Divorce

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"You don't have to do this, Jenna," I enunciated every word slowly, my hands splayed out in front of me. My Shirley Temple lays forgotten on the rooftop railing. I am much too concerned about doing everything I can to make sure Jenna doesn't jump off the ledge she is currently dangling from.

Seriously, how did this night take on such a dark turn? Half an hour ago, I was doing shots with Gary at the bar and dancing my ass off to Kendrick Lamar. I had escaped out of here to catch my breath, only to come face to face with suicide's mistress.

I know Jenna from marketing. She is a year ahead of me. We did a marketing project together a couple of years ago. I remember how she had owned and dominated that project. Our supervisor had been very impressed with our pitch, going on to treat us to a fancy dinner that night.

Where is that woman now? What happened to her ending up here tonight?

"You don't have to jump, okay? Whatever it is, we can talk about it. You can tell me about what happened. We'll figure it out together."

I feel like I am talking to a toddler. It makes me tense and jittery. Jenna shakes her head miserably. Her eyes are stained with so much mascara, that she could easily pass for a raccoon.

"I don't want to live anymore, not when he is getting married to her."

"Who?"

"Nate. From media. We've been dating for over two years now. I was expecting a proposal, but guess what? He broke up with me two weeks ago. He'd been dating some hotshot lawyer the whole time we were together. He asked her to marry him tonight. I saw it on Instagram.

"Oh wow."

Jenna sniffs. Do you know the worst part? He called to ask for my blessing. He wants me to be happy for him.

"What a douche."

"A lucky douche, who bagged a lawyer with a cushy trust-fund, while I'm here, dangling from a ledge, about to end my own life."

"If you do this, Jenna, you will be letting him win."

"But what else can I do?"

"You can decide to step down from the ledge and vow to live your very best life starting from tonight."

"It's not as easy as it sounds."

Jenna looks so sad, and I feel sorry for her. It is the only reason why I decided to be vulnerable as well. Why did I decide to spill my deepest, darkest secret to her? Thank heavens we are the only two people out on the roof.

Sighing, I leaned against the railing and retrieved my drink. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I have been in love with my sister's boyfriend for the past three years. Well, technically, he was my boyfriend first. I met him six years ago when I started at the company. We hit it off immediately. Quickly became best friends. He never saw me as anything more than that. But I knew it was going to happen someday. I was so sure of it. Until he met my sister."

Jenna stares at me for the longest time, and then, she scoffs. "No offense Ming, but I would also go for your sister if I was a guy. I've seen photos of her on your IG. She's a total goddess."

I snorted at that. "Whatever."

Jenna's smile and something about that smile warms my heart and makes me feel like I am walking on fluffy clouds.

"Don't die tonight?" I pleaded.

"Listen, Ming, I know you are just trying to help, but if I don't jump, I'm still going to wake up tomorrow with this awful pain in my chest."

I nodded. "I understand that you are hurting right now, but trust me, you are going to get over Nate 'what's his face.' It's all going to get better. One day at a time. Just, please don't give up. Huh, Jenna?"

"Okay, fine. I won't," she promised. Then, she gives me her hand and lets me help her get off the ledge.

"Thank you," I said, helping her gain balance on her feet.

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