I lost a game of truth or dare, and my friend asked, “What moment in your relationship with Misael made your heart race the most?”

I knew exactly what she meant, so I answered, “It was after we broke up—when someone else started coming on to him, and it finally made him realize how he really felt. He asked me to take him back.”

The room erupted in cheers—everyone except the girl in the corner. She looked visibly uncomfortable, her eyes red and completely out of place. I smirked to myself, held her stare, and moved closer to Misael. He stiffened for a second but let me curl into him, his arm coming around me—until she couldn’t take it anymore and stormed out.

Misael leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Elliana, let’s not overdo it.”

I paused and eased back to get a read on him. He was wearing the suit I’d picked out for him, the navy tie I’d tied myself. It matched my aesthetic perfectly. But his words didn’t sit right with me. The scene I’d carefully put together now had a crack in it. A flicker of regret went through me.

Irritation prickled under my skin, and the words slipped out before I could stop them. “More over-the-top than when you hooked up with Alana?”

Misael froze, looking a little deflated. I glanced around and saw everyone had gone still, caught off guard. I let out a soft laugh and picked up another card. “Come on, let’s keep playing. Whose turn is it?”

I was good at keeping the vibe light, and the others followed my lead, chatting and laughing like nothing had happened. We were here to have fun. If Alana hadn’t insisted on crashing, I wouldn’t have stirred the pot. Eventually, I looked back and Misael was gone.

When he returned to the private room, some guy was with him—the one who’d brought Alana. The guy was practically tripping over himself to please Misael, who just scowled at him. Once Misael sent him off, he kept checking his watch. The second it hit ten, he spoke up. “Elliana, time to head home.”

I glanced at the cards in my hand. I wasn’t exactly ready to leave, but I nodded. “Alright, let’s go.” Everyone knew I had health issues and couldn’t stay up late. Misael was strict about it, so nobody argued.

Before we left, I winked at Lilian—the one who’d asked the question—and silently mouthed, “Thanks.” She nodded, a knowing look in her eyes. Today, she’d helped me get a little payback. If Alana hadn’t barged in, I wouldn’t have made a scene just to embarrass her. After all, I’m forgiving by nature. I even forgave Misael for cheating.

The ride home was quiet. When we got there, he didn’t help me out of my shoes like he usually did. He just walked to the study, face dark. He was angry.

“Are you mad?” I tilted my head, genuinely confused. “Why? Because I embarrassed Alana?”

Misael stopped but didn’t turn around. “There’s no need to go after her. I’ve really cut her off now.”

“If you cut her off, how did she end up at this party?” I leaned back on the couch and propped my feet on the ottoman, my tone casual.

Suddenly, Misael turned and locked his eyes on me. A few seconds passed. Then he shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he opened them, they were hard and unyielding. “Elliana, I said no contact, and I won’t reach out to her again. The guy who brought her was calling in favors through contacts I’d introduced her to. She won’t show up in front of you again.”

Listening to him, I felt a laugh build in my chest. Six months ago, when I found out he’d cheated on me with Alana, he’d made me the same promise.

“Those words don’t just tear her down—they’re not easy on you, either,” Misael said, switching tactics. He came over, crouched in front of me, and softened his voice. “Please, don’t talk like that anymore.”

Our eyes met. I lifted my hand and brushed my fingers lightly over his cheek. “But what I said was the truth.”

Because in that moment, Misael had earned himself a get-out-of-jail-free card in my heart. That was why I’d taken him back despite what he’d done.

Misael clearly hadn’t expected that. He looked dazed. I pulled my hand back, and a sudden wave of disinterest washed over me.

Early that morning, Misael left for work. Almost like she’d planned it, Alana texted me the second he stepped out the door. I ignored it.

But Alana wasn’t giving up. She caught me on my way to the gallery.

“I need to talk to you,” she said firmly at the entrance. “If you don’t want that perfect reputation of yours shattered…”

What perfect reputation was she even talking about? I had time to kill and was a little curious about what else she might say, so I decided to humor her.

I regretted it almost immediately. It was nothing but tedious, empty talk.

“You know how many opportunities Misael’s secretly sent my way lately?” Alana’s bragging cut through, snagging my attention.

“My projects, worthy or not, have all sailed through.”

“I know Misael’s pulling strings for me behind the scenes.”

Seeing my expression shift, Alana pressed on, even more smug. “Soon I’ll be on equal footing with Misael. You’ll have to step aside then.”

Her words dripped with superiority, edged with a hint of pity.

“I suggest you do the smart thing and leave Misael yourself,” she sneered. “Don’t wait until he dumps you, shatters your little happy-life fantasy, and leaves you humiliated.”

Watching her smugness, I let out a soft laugh, my voice steady. “I can’t say whether I’ll be humiliated in the future, but I can absolutely make you feel humiliated right now.”

“Care to test that?”

Alana didn’t so much as flinch. “You’re just an artist. What could you possibly do to affect me…?”

I cut her off calmly. “I still have those photos of you and Misael together.”

I pretended to consider it. “I wonder how posting them on your company’s public forum would affect your promotion?”

Alana clearly hadn’t expected me to still have them. Shock flickered across her face. “Didn’t you delete them?”

“Misael told you that? I deleted them, yes—I deleted one photo. Doesn’t that count?”

Watching her retreat in defeat, I felt no joy in my win. My hand, resting on my knee, was clenched so tightly it left crescent marks in my palm.

I forced my anger down with logic and pulled up the list of promotion candidates at Alana’s workplace. She’d come at me first, so she could deal with the fallout.

She might have no shame, but I wasn’t about to stoop so low as to gross everyone out by posting those photos publicly. Instead, I sent the photos I’d saved to Margaret, Alana’s fiercest competitor. The rest would play out without me; her rival would crush her chances, no question.

My good mood for the day died the second I got home. Standing at the door, I overheard Alana sobbing to Misael over the phone.

After a brief silence, Misael finally spoke to console her. “Alana, I’ll take care of this.”

“I promised to support your career. I’ll always be your safety net.”

Sweet talk. Real sweet.

I couldn’t wait for Misael to finish his call. I was too eager to applaud.

Clap. Clap. Clap…

The sound made Misael jump. Alana must have heard it too. No need to dwell on it; I already knew how foolish I’d been earlier that day.

Arms crossed, I leaned against the doorframe and watched Misael pull himself together in an instant.

“When did you get back?” he asked, ending the call. His tone was as steady as ever.

I paused, then answered in Alana’s sickly-sweet voice. “Elliana, it’s all her fault. What should we do now?”

The sugary tone alone sent a chill down my spine.

“I’ve been here since you started that sentence,” Misael said, his expression not so much as flickering.

He walked over, grabbed a pair of slippers from the rack, and crouched in front of me. “Put these on. The floor’s cold.”

I braced a hand on his shoulder and slipped my feet into the shoes. Once I was settled, I made my way to the couch and sipped the coffee he’d made me, still warm.

Misael busied himself in the kitchen, moving with practiced efficiency as he made dinner. The scene that once comforted me now only drained me.

I set my cup down and stood in the kitchen doorway. “Is this your idea of no contact?” I asked.

He froze, the knife pausing mid-chop.

“You keep using your connections to help her, and she can still reach you whenever she wants,” I scoffed before I could stop myself. “‘Backing her up’—how touching.”

I stared at Misael’s back, my emotions churning, ready to boil over. For a long moment, he didn’t move. Then he turned, his face earnest. “She was a part of my life. I can’t just leave her with nothing.”

“But I promise I will never betray you again.”

I looked at him and found his promises utterly hollow. It was like a cold splash of water to the face, snapping me awake. I remembered the day he showed up with his bags packed, begging for another chance.

Three years ago, we were just another ordinary couple worn down by long distance—not because we’d stopped loving each other, but because the little, everyday things slowly ate away at us. Then, out of nowhere, after we broke up, my parents died in a car accident on a work trip.

The loss shattered me. On an ordinary day, I’d made up my mind to end it all—but Misael showed up.

After Alana confessed her feelings to him, he realized how much he needed me. He left behind his stable, promising future and moved to where I was to start over. His actions told me that someone in this world would always choose me, without wavering.

He went with me to therapy, promising over and over that we’d always be together. But six months ago, right when we were about to get married, I caught him with Alana.

Now he’s saying he’ll always be there for Alana. How long does his ‘forever’ really last?

Maybe my broken expression made Misael stop and come over. His eyes—deep, magnetic—had a way of captivating anyone he looked at.

I lifted my hand and gently covered his eyes. “Last night you said one thing. Tonight, another. Misael, which version am I supposed to believe?”

He let me cover his eyes. His lips moved, but no explanation came. He’d given another woman the confidence to flaunt her presence in front of me, and here I was, still trying to patch the cracks in us—all because he’d once chased after me and ignored everything else.

By then, every moment that had once moved me had been worn away. I lowered my hand, and Misael blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. Seconds later, he reached for me, but I stepped out of his reach.

Misael looked startled that I’d pulled away. His hand hung in the air, awkward and empty.

I turned away. “Finish cooking,” I said softly.

After one last dinner as a couple, I would let him go.