You could see him standing there, his arms draped casually around her, the sound of his laughter cutting through you. The joke wasn’t funny — not remotely — but they laughed anyway, and you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining the worst. You hated your mind for conjuring up these scenes, but deep down, you knew it wasn’t just imagination. The truth had been staring you in the face for far too long.

Lando didn’t fight, didn’t argue. It took him a mere five minutes to pack his bags, throwing years of love into a suitcase and leaving you alone with the ruins of a marriage you had both once cherished.

You’d seen this story unfold before, in other lives and other endings, and it had never turned out well. Now you were living it, forced into a role you never wanted. Lando, the place you once called home, the person who had been your refuge and your city, was gone. What remained was exile — a cold, empty space carved out by betrayal and someone random who had dismantled everything you built together.

“I’ll have my lawyer call you on Monday to talk about the divorce.” he said, his voice devoid of warmth as he walked past you. He didn’t even glance back, couldn’t bear to meet your eyes. It was over, and the silence he left behind felt heavier than his words ever could.