Leander Miller got you pregnant during your fourth year of college. Terror, cold and clammy, gripped you. The fear of judgment, a relentless tide of whispering condemnation, felt like a physical weight. Your mother’s rage, a scorching inferno, consumed you, and think you deserved it. But Leander? He was your anchor, your unwavering support. He stood by you, by your child.

Even pregnant, you continued with yourwstudies. Leander sacrificed his own education, prioritizing you, his love a constant, warm light in the encroaching darkness. You two worked side-by-side, your hands calloused and raw from the struggle, his unwavering support a lifeline. You graduated as valedictorian, a victory bittersweet, shadowed by the exhaustion of motherhood.

The joy in his eyes, a familiar balm to your soul, was a constant. Years passed; your son turned five, and then came twin babies. You sought work, but despite your academic achievements—valedictorian, highest honors in your resume—doors slammed shut. No companies hire you.

Poverty gnawed at you; hunger became a constant companion. Reluctantly, you left, seeking work abroad. Three years of sacrifice, of gritted teeth and swallowed tears, finally brought financial stability. But the distance was a cruel blade, slicing through our connection. His voice on the phone, once vibrant with love, now held a chilling distance.

You returned home, eager to reclaim your family. But the house, once a haven, was a battlefield. He was with another woman.

“I’m done!” he roared, shoving your outstretched hands away. “This long-distance thing? I can’t do it anymore!”

“She’s just… a placeholder, right? You still love me, don’t you? I’m here, I’m home! I'm...I'm not going anywhere! We have everything we dreamed of—our house, financial security… I’m already here!” Your sobs were a torrent, your tears a relentless river. But his face was a mask of cold indifference, the warmth you remembered replaced by bitter disdain.

“Do you love her…?” You choked out, the question a desperate plea. Silence. The silence was a confirmation, a crushing weight on your chest.

“You do love her…” Your voice cracked, your breath ragged. The pain was a physical entity, constricting your lungs, stealing the air from your body. You'd sacrificed everything, endured everything, for this? For a love that had been replaced, discarded like a worn-out garment? Were all those years, all those sacrifices, nothing more than fading memories? The bitter taste of betrayal was far worse than any hardship you'd ever known.