On the third anniversary of my marriage, I had everything planned down to the last detail. The table was set with my husband’s favorite dishes, the lights dimmed to cast a warm, romantic glow over the dining room. I had selected a special bottle of wine, something rich and indulgent, meant to evoke fond memories of our honeymoon in Tuscany. I wore the dress he once said made me look like a goddess, my heart beating with excitement, anticipation rising as I envisioned the look on his face when he walked through the door.

But instead of the creak of the front door opening, all I received was a cold, impersonal message. The phone buzzed beside the candles I had carefully arranged: [Something came up at work. I'll be back late.]

My heart sank, but I tried to push away the sting of disappointment. I reasoned with myself that work could be demanding, that surely he would make up for it when he came home. I poured myself a glass of wine and sat down on the couch, trying to quiet the nagging feeling in my chest.

Moments later, a flash of movement caught my eye from the window. The hotel across the street was directly visible from our apartment. I hadn’t noticed it before, but now, as I peered through the sheer curtains, I saw the unmistakable silhouette of Finn in one of the brightly lit rooms. My breath caught in my throat as I realized he wasn’t alone.

There, tangled in a passionate embrace, was Finn with Tonia, his first love. His hands roamed her body, their mouths locked in a kiss so deep it made my stomach turn. I sat there, numb. Part of me wanted to look away, but instead, I calmly picked up my phone and began to record. With each passing moment, the reality of what was happening hit me harder. The man I had loved, trusted and sacrificed so much for was now having an affair with another woman, right in front of me. With one last glance at the video, I dropped my phone beside me and reached for my wedding rings. 

I drained my glass of red wine, feeling its bitterness seep into my bones and as I tossed our carefully crafted wedding rings into the trash, a bitter smile curled my lips. The irony of holding them in my hands while watching him betray me felt almost cruel. I stood, walked to the trash can and dropped the rings inside. The sound of them clinking against the metal echoed through the empty room, a final note to a love that had soured.

Hours later, I was lying in bed, my face still damp from tears. I must have cried for hours, but eventually, the tears ran dry, leaving only a hollow ache in my chest. The room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlamps outside. I stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to piece together how everything had unraveled so quickly.

I didn’t know how long I stayed like that before I heard the sound of the door opening. Finn stepped inside, moving quietly as though not to wake me—though I had been wide awake the entire time. He smelled faintly of soap, but underneath the scent of his shower lingered the unmistakable fragrance of perfume. Not mine—hers.

“Why didn’t you shower?” he muttered, his voice casual, as if everything were normal. “You reek of alcohol.”

Finn had always been a neat freak, unable to tolerate even the slightest hint of disorder. In the past, his insistence on showering before bed had been endearing. If I ever resisted, he would scoop me up playfully, calling me his “naughty dirty girl” and carry me to the bathroom, his laughter filling the house. But tonight, there was no playfulness in his voice, only disdain.

I stayed perfectly still, staring at the wall. His fingers tugged roughly at his tie, loosening it with frustration. That’s when I saw it: a bright red lipstick stain on his collar. My stomach turned and my heart hardened.

“So, you're really not going to shower?” His tone was laced with irritation, as though my disobedience was some petty inconvenience to him.

I turned my back on him, offering nothing but a cold shrug.

“What’s this all about?” he muttered to himself, barely audible. “You’re not mad just because I came home late, are you? Why don’t you tell me what you did this evening?”

The words dripped with indifference, as if my emotions, my entire being, were trivial to him.

I couldn’t take it anymore. My body moved before my mind could catch up and I sat up abruptly in bed, my voice trembling with barely contained fury. “I made a lavish dinner for our anniversary, Finn. I bought your favorite wine, prepared everything perfectly. But someone decided not to show up at the last minute. Does that sound interesting to you?”

His eyes flickered with something—surprise, perhaps—but the emotion was fleeting. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box, holding it up as if it were some grand gesture.

“Here,” he said, his voice overly proud. “A gift for you. Tonia helped me pick it out.”

The name hit me like a slap to the face. I had seen them together with my own eyes only hours ago, watched as they betrayed me. And now, he had the audacity to stand here, reeking of her perfume, with her lipstick smeared on his collar and proudly announce that she had helped him select a gift for me? My stomach twisted with rage and disgust.

“It’s disgusting.” My voice was cold, detached. I grabbed the box from his hand and threw it into the trash without a second thought.

Finn’s eyes widened in shock, his face flushing with anger. “You—what’s wrong with you? I’m a man! I don’t understand these things. She was just helping me. If she hadn’t—”

Before he could finish his defense, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting immediately as he hurried to answer it. Without even sparing me a glance, he grabbed his coat and rushed out of the apartment, leaving me alone in the dark.

I stared at the door long after it clicked shut, the cold, empty space where he had stood only moments before. My heart felt numb, the last remnants of warmth draining from it as I realized the full extent of his betrayal. Had their hotel rendezvous not been enough? Did he really need to go back to her now, after everything?

I stared blankly at the ceiling, my thoughts drifting back to the day Finn and I first met. College had been a blur of lectures, exams and social events I rarely attended. I was always the quiet one, preferring the solace of the library or the peaceful corners of campus where I could lose myself in a book or my thoughts. Finn Olsen, on the other hand, was everything I wasn’t—outgoing, magnetic and undeniably handsome. He was tall with an athletic build, the kind of guy who drew attention without even trying. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief and his smile—so effortless and charming—had the power to make nearly every girl on campus swoon.

And swoon they did. Finn was practically a campus idol, the subject of whispered conversations and stolen glances. He had a way of commanding attention when he walked into a room, like everything else faded into the background. Girls flocked to him, hoping for even a moment of his attention, but he never seemed particularly interested in any of them. His indifference only added to his allure, making him even more unattainable.

So it came as a surprise when he started pursuing me. I wasn’t the type to seek attention, especially from someone like him. I was quiet and reserved, content to stay in the background while the social whirl of college life passed me by. But Finn noticed me. He claimed it was my cool, aloof demeanor that drew him in, that he was tired of the flashy, forward girls who constantly vied for his attention. At first, I didn’t believe him. It seemed too good to be true—why would someone like him be interested in someone like me?

But he was relentless in his pursuit, going out of his way to sit near me in class, offering to walk me to the library and even finding excuses to bump into me at the coffee shop I frequented. He told me he liked the challenge, that he found it refreshing to be around someone who wasn’t fawning over him. I, in turn, found myself slowly warming to him. His persistence, his easy charm and the way he looked at me—like I was the only person in the room—wore down my defenses.

Looking back, maybe it was my own naïveté or the desire for a whirlwind romance that made me believe he was different. I was young and there was something intoxicating about being pursued by someone so desirable, someone so unattainable to others but who made me feel like I was special, chosen. He made me believe that he wasn’t interested in the superficial, that he saw something in me no one else did. It felt like I had won some silent competition, like I was the one girl who had caught the eye of the most sought-after guy on campus.

We became inseparable and before long, we were officially a couple. It was a relationship that made everyone else envious. But I was cautious. I wasn’t someone who rushed headlong into romance. Still, Finn had a way of making me feel like we were meant to be, that fate had brought us together.

As we neared graduation, the carefree nature of our relationship started to shift. My father, a powerful and successful businessman, had already planned my future, securing a place for me in the family company. I never had to worry about my career, my path was paved with privilege and expectations. But Finn’s situation was different. He came from a modest background, a small town far from the world I had grown up in. He wasn’t ashamed of his roots, but he was fiercely ambitious, desperate to make something of himself. He had his heart set on joining Delacroix Global, the prestigious conglomerate that dominated the business landscape.

What he didn’t know—what I had never told him—was that Delacroix Global was my family’s company. I kept that part of my life hidden from him, fearing that it might change how he saw me. I didn’t want him to think I was just another rich girl living off her father’s wealth. I wanted him to believe I was just like everyone else, that our relationship wasn’t tainted by money or power. But as graduation loomed and Finn struggled to find a job, I knew I had to step in.

The hiring standards at Delacroix Global were notoriously high. Only the best of the best was considered and though Finn was hardworking, his grades and experience were average at best. He didn’t stand a chance of getting hired on his own. So, I used my connections—discreetly, of course. I pulled some strings to get him an interview, ensuring he landed a position in the human resources department. Finn had no idea what I had done for him. He thought it was his charm, his perseverance, that had earned him the job. I let him believe that because I wanted him to succeed on his own terms, or at least think he had.

But that wasn’t the end of it. Even after he was hired, I continued to help him behind the scenes. I smoothed over his mistakes, ensuring his probation period went smoothly. I even went so far as to make sure he was noticed by the right people, leading to his eventual promotion to top salesperson and, later, marketing director. Finn was none the wiser, convinced his success was the result of his own hard work and determination. He had no idea that I was pulling the strings, guiding his career to ensure he wouldn’t fail.

My father, of course, noticed my dirty little tricks. He wasn’t pleased. He had never approved of Finn, believing him to be beneath me, an opportunist who would never truly belong in our world. When I told my father I wanted to marry Finn, he flat-out rejected the idea. He had already arranged for me to marry someone he deemed more suitable, someone who came from a similar background with the same pedigree. But I refused. I was determined to be with Finn, convinced that love would triumph over everything.

In a moment of rebellion, I took the household registration book from my father’s office without his permission and secretly registered my marriage to Finn. We moved into our own apartment, a three-bedroom unit near the company and started our life together. Finn was everything I thought I wanted—cheerful, motivated and patient. He spoiled me in ways I had never known before. I felt loved, cherished and for a while, I believed we had built something real.

But then, Tonia entered the picture.

Tonia Hall, the daughter of a branch office manager, had just returned from studying abroad. She was confident, beautiful and sophisticated—the type of woman who turned heads wherever she went. She was assigned to work as Finn’s assistant and from the moment she arrived, everything changed. Finn became distracted, distant. He started grooming himself more carefully, spending extra time at the office, often coming home late. His once affectionate nature turned cold and the warmth between us started to fade.

I heard the rumors, of course. People whispered about Finn and Tonia, about how they were seen together after hours, how she seemed to always be by his side. But I refused to believe it. I trusted Finn. I believed in our marriage, in the years we had spent building a life together. It wasn’t until tonight, until I saw it with my own eyes, that I finally understood.

Now, as I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the truth settled in like a weight pressing down on my chest. The man I had fought for, the man I had defied my father for, had betrayed me. The rumors were true. And I had been a fool to believe otherwise.

All night long, sleep eluded me. My eyes stayed open, staring into the darkness as silent tears streamed down my face. The minutes dragged into hours, the hollow ache in my chest intensifying with every passing second. The sky outside began to lighten with the approach of dawn, but there was no relief in its arrival—only a dull, gnawing emptiness where peace used to reside. Every creak of the house seemed to echo the weight of my loneliness.

Then, I heard the familiar sound of the front door clicking open. Finn, thinking he could sneak back in without being noticed, had returned. I dragged myself out of bed, my body heavy with exhaustion and made my way to the hallway. With a quick flick, I turned on the light, the sudden brightness startling him. His eyes darted up, meeting mine for a brief moment before he looked away, his guilt palpable.

“Up so early?” was all he muttered, barely audible as he shuffled inside.

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over my chest, my gaze fixed on him with a cold intensity. “Back to change clothes?” The words fell from my lips, coated in bitterness, each syllable carrying the weight of my disappointment.

Finn’s eyes flickered with something—nervousness, perhaps—before he quickly diverted his attention, mumbling a vague, “Mm.” He toed off his shoes and moved toward me, arms outstretched, his expression softening into a poor imitation of affection. The attempt felt like a mockery.

Without warning, he wrapped himself around me from behind, his breath hot against my neck as he whispered in that familiar, too-smooth voice, “I’m sorry, Honey. I’ve been so busy with work lately. I know I’ve been neglecting you. How are you gonna punish me?” He let his words linger, teasing the air as his lips brushed my skin. His grip tightened around me, his hands roaming, as though he thought he could erase everything with a few empty words and wet kisses. A wave of revulsion swept over me, stronger than I could bear. The feeling of his touch, once comforting, now made my skin crawl. I shoved him away, stepping back with force, the cold distance between us growing palpable. The silence that followed felt like a suffocating shroud.

Finn’s expression froze, his hands hanging awkwardly in the space between us.

“Still mad about last night?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion, as if he couldn’t fathom why I would still be upset. I didn’t bother to answer. I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, speechless. The echo of my footsteps seemed to mock him as I retreated to the sanctuary of the bedroom.

Back in the bedroom, I sat down on the edge of the bed, my hands trembling with anger and disgust. Moments later, I heard him moving about the house, the rustle of fabric as he changed clothes in the cloakroom. Each sound felt like a reminder of the betrayal I had endured.

When Finn reappeared, he was immaculately dressed, his sharp suit tailored to perfection, making him look every bit the successful businessman he pretended to be. His eyes skimmed the room until they landed on me, the slightest hint of discomfort in his gaze.

“There’s a reunion this evening,” he said casually, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt as if nothing had happened between us. “I’ll be back later. Don’t wait up for me.”

I stared at him, my voice cold as ice when I finally spoke. “A reunion and you’re not taking me along?”

For a brief second, Finn faltered. He paused mid-step, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve always hated noisy places,” he said smoothly, his tone too light. “Unless you’ve changed your mind, of course. You can come along if you don’t mind the noise.”

He tilted his head, waiting for my response, his expression full of fake politeness. I met his gaze, unflinching, before slamming the bedroom door shut in his face. The finality of the action reverberated through the house, leaving an oppressive silence in its wake.

Just last month, after Tonia reappeared in our lives, Finn asked me to quit my job and stay at home. He phrased it kindly, saying his income was more than enough to support us, that I didn’t need to exhaust myself anymore. At the time, I thought he was simply being considerate, caring even. But now, in the cold light of everything I had learned, the real reason became painfully clear. He didn’t want me anywhere near the company—near him and Tonia—where I might notice something suspicious. The more I thought about it, the more aggrieved I felt, like the walls of my world were slowly closing in on me.

That evening, unable to suppress my mounting anger and sorrow, I reached out to a classmate and managed to get the address of their so-called "reunion." It wasn’t hard to find—the Midnight Pulse nightclub, a place I’d heard Finn mention in passing. I dressed myself up, a small act of defiance and drove there, my heart pounding in my chest. Room 305. I stood outside the door, my hand hovering just above the doorknob before knocking, each knock resonating with my pent-up frustration.

The door creaked open, revealing Tonia. Her presence was striking, seductive even, her perfectly styled hair and clingy dress all too familiar. She was wrapped around Finn like a second skin, her smile wide and unbothered as she took me in with a cursory glance. The scent of her perfume hit me first—the same scent I had smelled on Finn before—and there it was, the lipstick mark on his collar, confirming everything I had suspected. The sight was a brutal confirmation of my worst fears.

“Oh, hi there,” Tonia said with a sugary tone, her voice dripping with false politeness. She probably didn’t know I was Finn’s wife. “Sorry, but I think you’ve come to the wrong room. This room is booked for a private party.”

Finn stepped forward, his eyes widening in panic. Before I could say anything, he blurted out hastily, “Don’t you hear her? Go away. You’ve got the wrong room.”

My heart sank. It wasn’t the words themselves—it was the cold indifference, the way he slammed the door shut in my face, cutting me off completely. He didn’t even offer an excuse or an apology. I stood frozen for a moment outside that door, unable to move, the weight of betrayal so heavy that I felt crushed beneath it. The world seemed to spin around me, the reality of my shattered trust settling in with cruel finality.

When I got back home, the emptiness swallowed me whole. I collapsed onto the couch, the tears coming in a flood as I cried bitterly for the neglect and injustice I had suffered. I reached for a bottle of red wine that had been stored for a special occasion—ironic, given the day’s events—and uncorked it. I poured myself a glass, then another and another, the liquid doing little to numb the pain. I turned the TV volume up to drown out the deafening silence, but all I could hear were my own thoughts, spinning with images of Finn and Tonia together.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, wallowing in my grief and disappointment, before the door creaked open again. Finn stumbled in, his body reeking of alcohol. He frowned when he saw me, quietly changing his shoes and then settling down beside me on the couch, as if nothing was wrong. The contrast between his demeanor and the pain he had caused was jarring.

“I’m sorry…” he mumbled, his voice thick with the effects of the night’s drinks. “Most of the people at the party were men and things just got a bit out of hand…”

I kept my eyes on the TV, staring blankly at the screen. My voice was wooden, devoid of any emotion as I responded. “It’s okay. I understand. You all have to curry favor with the boss’s daughter and hope for her help at work.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He blinked, surprised, before quickly nodding in agreement. “Right… exactly. Don’t be angry, though. It was just a social event. There’s nothing between us, I swear.” He reached out, trying to pull me into an embrace, but I moved away, just enough to make it clear I didn’t want him near me.

“Okay,” I muttered, my tone final.

But even as I said the words, my mind replayed the scene from that night—the two of them, entangled in each other’s arms on that hotel bed. Finn had become a stranger to me, someone who lied with ease, as if it had become second nature. I had seen a classmate’s post on social media earlier; the party had ended two hours ago. Yet, here he was, offering more empty words and excuses. What else was he hiding?

Finn went to shower and I heard the faint sound of something falling from his coat pocket. Curious, I picked it up and realized it was a small blue pill, some sort of Viagra. My lips curled into a sneer as I inspected it—he was already taking pills? Was this what it took to keep up with Tonia’s demands? We had only been married for three years, not even close to the so-called seven-year itch, yet the cracks in our relationship were deepening fast, hastened by Tonia’s return.

I was the daughter of the Delacroix Family—a family that ran the most prestigious company in the area. I had grown up with privilege, wealth and pride. Drivers, maids, a sheltered life where I had never needed to lift a finger. He knew very well that I was far more capable than him, both academically and professionally. And yet, I had humbled myself for him, made myself small to fit into his world, becoming the perfect supportive wife. I had stood behind him in every way, even when I could have easily outshone him. My sacrifices seemed to fade into insignificance compared to the betrayal I now faced.

My family had provided everything, yet here I was, cleaning up after him, chasing after his needs like some servant. For what? For him to throw it all back in my face, for him to cheat on me with some girl who had barely entered the workforce?

Tears welled up again as I took another large gulp of wine. My chest ached with a sadness I couldn’t even begin to put into words. The bitterness of the wine did nothing to counteract the bitterness of my reality.

Just one sentence—“Go away. You’ve got the wrong room”—erased everything. All the years, the love, the trust, the sacrifices I had made. Seven years of love, four years of courtship, three years of marriage… all gone in an instant.

This was the man I had given my heart to. Seven years, wasted.

A few minutes later, Finn emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, humming some carefree tune. When he saw me glaring at him, his smile faltered, awkwardly hanging in the air.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

I sneered. “You look like a man in love.”

Finn blinked, taken aback for a moment before forcing a nervous laugh. “What are you talking about? Go take a shower too—you smell of alcohol.”

By the time I was out of the shower and back in the bedroom, Finn was already sprawled across the bed, waiting. As soon as I lay down, he moved to press himself on top of me, his intentions clear.

I pushed him away with more force than I intended, my words sharp and cold. “Aren’t you tired? I don’t want you to exhaust yourself. Just sleep.”

Finn looked stunned, clearly not expecting rejection. For a brief moment, confusion clouded his face, but then he simply deflated, rolling to the side like a balloon losing all its air.

The next morning, as he headed to the bathroom, I dragged myself out of bed, preparing to follow my usual routine. Picking out his clothes had become a habit, one that seemed automatic after years of playing the role of a dutiful wife. But as I opened the wardrobe, something felt off. His clothes were already laid out—bright-colored shirts and flashy ties, nothing like what I would have chosen. Finn had always preferred dark, muted tones. His once staple black and navy suits had been replaced by a sleek silver-gray, a color that softened his usual sharpness.

I stood there, glaring at the outfit, bile rising in my throat. These weren’t my choices. I had built his wardrobe. I had shaped how he presented himself. Now, someone else had slithered in and taken over, piece by piece. Tonia, of course. I clenched my fists. She was already sinking her claws into every part of him.

Instinctively, I reached into the pocket of one of his suits and pulled out a box of blue pills. A sneer tugged at my lips. So this was what it took for him to keep up with her? Every day, just to satisfy Tonia? The disgust simmered in my gut. It didn’t surprise me when he didn’t bother to come home that night or even send a message.

Late into the night, I received a call from Marcie, the maid who had been with the Delacroix Family for as long as I could remember. Her voice was strained as she told me that my father had suffered a heart attack and was in critical condition. He had asked for me—asked for Finn, too.

Panic seized me as I fumbled for my phone, my fingers trembling as I dialed Finn’s number. The phone rang endlessly, each beep gnawing at my nerves, feeding the growing pit of dread in my stomach. Just as I was about to hang up, there was a soft click. The call connected, but no one spoke. The silence was unnerving—until I heard it.

Heavy breathing. Faint, breathless moans. My heart clenched as a woman's voice echoed through the receiver, laced with pleasure.

“Ah, I can't take it anymore. You're just so good, baby!”

Rage surged through me, hot and suffocating, nearly boiling over. I ended the call with a trembling hand, my entire body shaking with fury. Every fiber of my being screamed for release, but there was no time to fall apart. My father was waiting.

I rushed to his side, my heart heavy with grief, arriving just in time to see him before he slipped away. His frail hand gripped mine, his strength fading fast. His eyes, once sharp, were now clouded with pain and disappointment.

“Your husband... where is he? Why didn’t he come with you?" His voice was barely a whisper, each word a struggle.

Through my tears, I forced myself to lie, choking on the words as they left my mouth. “He’s working late, Dad. He couldn’t answer the phone.” My voice cracked under the weight of the falsehood, but I couldn’t bear to tell him the truth.

His eyes darkened, filled with a deep sadness I had never seen before. He squeezed my hand with the last of his strength, his final words piercing through the haze of my grief.

“Finn... is unreliable. You should... divorce him.”

And then he was gone. His hand slipped from mine as I held his lifeless body, the sobs breaking free from my chest in violent waves. I wept until I could hardly breathe. And still, Finn didn’t come.

Hours later, as I sat in the cold, empty hospital room, my phone buzzed. Finn’s name flashed across the screen and for a brief moment, I hoped—stupidly—that he’d finally come to his senses.

“Hey, honey! What’s up?” His voice was casual, as if nothing had happened, as if my world hadn’t just crumbled around me. “Sorry I missed your call—I was so busy with work. If it’s not urgent, I’ll catch up with you later.”

My fingers tightened around the phone, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I buried my father alone. I arranged everything—the funeral, the burial, the final goodbyes—while Finn remained absent. During that time, not once did he call, not once did he send a message to check on me. He was as distant as ever, completely detached from the pain he’d caused.

When I finally returned home, the house felt foreign. I noticed things that didn’t belong—a half-empty bottle of wine I never bought, a pair of women’s slippers by the door. Another woman had invaded my life, taken over my place in this house while I had been consumed by grief. Fury surged through me again, bitter and sharp.

I didn’t hesitate. With disgust curling in my chest, I gathered everything that didn’t belong—every trace of her—and threw it all into the trash.

Then I heard Finn humming happily behind the bedroom door, his carefree tune grating against my nerves. The sound of muffled voices reached me before the door creaked open. When he stepped out, Finn wasn’t alone. Tonia trailed behind him, her presence clinging to the air like stale perfume. Both of them froze, startled to find me sitting on the sofa, waiting like a predator watching its prey.

“Nina? I-I didn’t know you were back,” Finn stammered, his voice shaky as he fumbled to regain composure. His eyes darted nervously between me and Tonia, the color draining from his face.

Ignoring him, I let my gaze shift to Tonia. She was wearing a sleek, tight-fitting dress that screamed of attention, her lipstick slightly smudged, but she made no move to fix it. My voice dripped with sarcasm as I spoke, my words sharp and cutting. “Did I surprise you?”

Tonia’s eyes flickered with discomfort. She hesitated for a second, then forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Hi, I’m Tonia. Finn and I work together.” Her tone was too light, too forced. “You must be his wife?”

“Nina,” I said flatly, my lips barely moving as I spat the name out like a bitter pill. I didn’t bother to offer a smile or any pleasantries—there was no need for that anymore.

Finn’s face twisted in awkwardness, his gaze shifting from me to Tonia, then back again, like a man caught in a trap. He tried to explain, words stumbling out of his mouth. “W-we were just heading to meet a client and… Tonia needed to use the bathroom. So, I thought we’d stop by here for a minute.”

Tonia, sensing the tension, quickly nodded, jumping in to back him up. “Yes, exactly! Just a quick stop.” Her voice was high-pitched, strained, as she tried to keep up the facade. “But we should get going now. We’re in a hurry, right?” She threw a glance at Finn, eager to escape.

They turned their backs to me without another word, walking out of the house hand in hand like I was nothing but a shadow in the corner. The door clicked shut behind them and I sat there, watching them go, my hands clenched into fists. The room felt suffocating, every breath a reminder of the betrayal that had long settled between us.

A wave of cold, bitter self-mockery washed over me. I’d given up so much—my pride, my independence—all for him. And here he was, slipping out the door with another woman as if I didn’t even exist.

But now, there was no more doubt. The decision I had been avoiding for so long was suddenly crystal clear. I had finally made up my mind.