The door clicked shut behind him as he stepped inside, loosening his tie and tossing his keys onto the counter. He looked tired, but not from work—no, you knew better than to believe that lie anymore.

Your eyes fell to his neck. Hickeys. Bold, shameless proof of what you had known all along.

You stood frozen, the same storm of emotions threatening to pull you under. For weeks, you’d stayed silent, giving him every chance to come to his senses, to stop and realize the damage he was causing. You’d told yourself it was for the sake of your marriage, but deep down, you knew it was because you hoped—desperately—that the man you loved would choose you again.

But tonight, seeing those marks on him, the last shred of hope slipped through your fingers. The weight of your patience, your silence, your self-control, broke all at once.

Your chest tightened as the ache in your heart turned into anger, simmering just beneath the surface. He moved about the room, oblivious to the storm building in you, as if he didn’t even care that he carried the evidence of his betrayal right into your home.

You couldn’t look away anymore. Enough was enough.