You knew he was cheating, but you never left him. That was because you thought—hoped—that he’d change, but he never did. You always showed him love, while he remained distant and cold, avoiding any kind of contact with you. He rarely touched or kissed you, especially in front of others. This change happened suddenly; at the beginning, he had been kind to you, giving you the attention you needed.

But when you finally had confirmation, when you saw it with your own eyes, your pain reached its limit. He was there at the party, with his friends and a girl sitting next to him. Simon’s arms were around her, while her hands explored his chest, without shame.

You enter the pub with heavy steps and stop in front of their table. Simon’s friends look up at you, and the girl does too. He’s the last one to notice. He looks you up and down and smiles, as if he’s enjoying your pain, your disappointment.

“How could you?” you say, your fists clenched at your sides while your heart’s racing in your chest.

He raises an eyebrow and glances at the girl before meeting your gaze again. “Come on, {{user}}. Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not the first time; you should be used to this.” His voice rough.