Chapter 3

I didn’t sleep.

I don’t think I even tried.

I sat on the couch the entire night, my body curled into itself, my eyes fixed on him like if I looked away for even a second, something would change. Like I would wake up and realize none of it was real.

But it was.

He was still there.

Lying on the couch, breathing evenly, like he hadn’t just broken something in me without even knowing it.

The room stayed quiet.

My thoughts didn’t.

They kept circling back, again and again, to the same place. The same words.

Damn, Mirabel.

My stomach twisted.

You don’t understand how much I’ve missed you… all these years… thanks for coming back to me.

I pressed my lips together, my fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the couch.

I didn't know when the sky started to lighten.

I only noticed when the darkness in the room slowly gave way to morning.

My body felt heavy.

Worn out.

Like I had been carrying something all night and couldn’t put it down.

Dominic stirred.

The slight movement pulled my attention back to him immediately.

He shifted on the couch, his brows pulling together before he groaned softly. His arm came up to shield his eyes from the sunlight creeping in through the windows.

For a moment, he stayed like that.

Then he pushed himself up slowly, sitting upright.

His gaze lifted and met mine.

I didn’t move.

Neither did he.

For a second, we just looked at each other.

Or maybe I was the only one really looking.

There was no recognition in his eyes.

No pause. No question.

Nothing.

Like last night hadn’t happened.

He looked away first. Then he stood up.

Just like that.

No words.

No acknowledgment.

He turned and started walking away.

Something in my chest tightened.

“Where were you yesterday?”

My voice came out smaller than I wanted.

Weak.

I hated it.

But I couldn’t take it back.

His steps stopped.

For a moment, he didn’t turn.

Then slowly, he looked over his shoulder at me.

“Since when did you care about my whereabouts?”

His voice was cold.

Like I had asked something irrelevant.

Something I had no right to ask.

I pushed myself to my feet, even though my body protested.

“Who were you with?”

The question felt heavier this time.

It sat between us.

He turned fully now, facing me.

One brow lifted slightly. He didn't say anything for a second.

Then, “I don’t have time for this.”

Just like that.

Like I was not worth answering to.

He turned again and continued walking.

“Dominic—”

He didn’t stop.

“I’m talking to you!” My voice came out louder this time. It startled even me.

It was the first time I had ever raised my voice at him.

But it didn’t matter.

He didn’t even slow down.

He just kept walking up the stairs, his steps steady, unbothered, until he disappeared from sight.

The sound of his footsteps faded.

Then there was nothing.

Just silence.

I stood there for a long time, staring at the empty space where he had been.

Something inside me sank.

Slowly.

Quietly.

Like it had finally accepted the truth I kept avoiding.

He couldn’t even give me an answer.

Not even a lie.

Not even an excuse.

I let out a small breath, but it didn’t ease the tightness in my chest.

It just stayed there.

Heavy.

I felt a wave of dizziness hit me suddenly.

My fingers pressed lightly against the back of the couch to steady myself.

I hadn’t eaten.

Not really.

Just that breakfast yesterday.

It felt like my body was starting to give in.

But I ignored it.

That wasn’t what mattered.

Not right now.

Not when something else hurt more.

I couldn’t just let the conversation end like that.

So I walked upstairs.

Each step felt heavier than the last, like my body was resisting, like it already knew what I didn’t want to hear.

I opened the door and walked into the room.

He had his back to me, pulling off his shirt.

He saw me.

I knew he did.

But he didn’t acknowledge me.

He just kept going, like I was invisible.

Like always.

“I asked you a question.”

My voice came out steadier this time, even though my chest felt tight.

He didn’t respond.

Not even a glance.

He unbuckled his belt and pulled it free, tossing it aside carelessly.

The sound felt louder than it should have.

“I’m your wife, Dominic.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

That made him pause just for a second.

It was small.

But I noticed it.

“I didn’t beg you to marry me,” I continued, my voice dropping, softer now. “You asked for my hand… so why are you treating me like this?”

He turned this time.

Slowly.

His eyes landed on me.

There was nothing in them.

No guilt.

No hesitation.

Nothing.

“I’m hurting.”

I didn't know why I said it like that.

So simply.

Like maybe if I said it plainly, he would understand.

But he just stood there looking at me like I had said something meaningless.

And the worst part was… I still loved him.

Even now. Even like this.

“You never cared about me,” I continued, my voice shaking now despite how hard I tried to keep it steady. “You never cared about this marriage. You’ve never done any little thing a husband should do for his wife.”

My fingers curled slightly at my sides.

“For three years… you never wished me a happy birthday. Not once. You never remembered our anniversary.”

My throat tightened.

“But what’s there to celebrate?” I let out a small, empty breath. “It doesn’t even feel like we're married."

He didn’t interrupt.

Didn’t react.

That hurt more than if he had.

“I don’t even want to talk about that right now,” I said quickly, like if I stayed there, I would fall apart. “Just… answer me.”

My eyes held his.

“Who were you with yesterday?”

There was a pause.

It didn’t last long.

“Mirabel.”

The word hit me before I could prepare for it.

My knees felt weak.

For a second, I thought I might fall.

I didn’t know why I had hoped he would lie.

Even after everything I saw.

I had still hoped that he would deny it.

That he would say anything else.

Work.

Meetings.

Anything.

But he didn’t.

He just looked at me, his expression unchanged.

“I was with Mirabel,” he repeated, his voice calm, almost indifferent. “Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?”

No.

The word rose to my lips but it never came out. Because it didn’t matter. He had already said it. He didn’t say anything else. Didn’t explain. Didn’t try to soften it.

He just turned and walked into the bathroom.

And like that, the conversation was over.

I was no longer worth responding to.

The sound of the door closing felt final.

I stood there for a moment, not moving.

Then slowly, I walked to the bed.

My legs felt unsteady.

Heavy.

I sat down carefully, like if I moved too fast, something inside me would break completely.

And this time… I wasn’t sure I would be able to hold it together.