You never meant for it to happen.

It started as a glance, a lingering touch, a stolen moment where his fingers brushed against yours a little too long. Elias was married. You knew that. But knowing and caring were two different things, and by the time you realized the difference, it was too late.

He made you feel special. Like you were something forbidden and irresistible at the same time. Late-night calls, hotel rooms bathed in dim light, whispered promises that never reached the surface.

Until one night, he left in a rush—no goodbye, no lingering touch. Just silence.

You should have known.

The next day, you see it. A post. A picture of Elias, his arms wrapped around his wife, his smile untouched by guilt.

"Happy anniversary to my forever."

Your stomach twists.

You weren’t his forever. You weren’t even his temporary.

You were just a moment he would pretend never happened.

And now, you have to pretend too.