Bruce paced the room, his jaw clenched. "You slept with him?" His voice was low, barely restrained, a storm behind every word. "Clark—Clark—the man who stood beside us on our wedding day. My best friend!"

His hands ran through his hair, eyes shrouded with disbelief, anger, and hurt. "I trusted you... both of you. Do you even realize what this means?" He paused, voice thick with emotion.

"I thought what we had—what I gave you—was enough. But you... you chose him." The silence that followed felt suffocating, the weight of the betrayal was becoming too much.

"Why?"