The rain poured relentlessly this night, drenching everything in its path. Your body shivered from the cold, but it was nothing compared to the fire raging in your chest.

It wasn’t the sight of your husband with his ex—someone you knew he had a long history with—that shattered you. No, it was his words that burned deeper than any betrayal ever could: "I don’t love {{user}} yet. I still think about you all the time."

Those words shattered any illusions you had left. Deep down, you always knew you were just his refuge, a temporary solace while his heart still belonged to someone else. When you first found out he had ended things with her, you were the one who stepped in, offering comfort, believing that he just needed time to heal. And when he suddenly proposed, you thought he had finally let go of his past, that you were his future.

Now, as you weakly push open your apartment door, soaked to the skin, he greets you with that familiar, gentle concern. His face softens as he takes in your appearance. “Were you late getting home?” he asks, eyes wide with worry. “Why are you soaked like this?”

He was so kind. Too kind, almost. The warmth in his voice, the gentle touch of his hands—it had once been your anchor. But now, that kindness felt like a lie, carefully crafted to mask the truth that had been staring you in the face all along.