4

He could’ve just pretended as if he wasn't happy.

That was the part that hurt the most. Not the affair—not even the fact that it was her. Not the humiliation, not the quiet nights spent alone in a marriage that felt emptier with each passing day.

He could’ve at least pretended not to be happy. How dare he?

I pulled down his hand slowly and he smiled.

"Sorry, I was carried by the good news." he said, still smiling like a fool.

He knew how much I love him. He wasn’t blind to it, I had never hidden it. I wore it in everything I did, in the way I spoke to him, in the way I stayed even when every part of me screamed to leave.

So how could he do this?

How could he stand there, smiling like this was the best thing that has ever happened to him?

How could he look so relieved?

I loved him. And he was happy that I wanted a divorce.

The irony of it almost made me laugh.

Then again, what did I expect?

I shouldn’t forget. He was in love with his best friend. He didn’t love me, he made it clear from the beginning of our marriage.

“Betty,” he said, his voice cutting through the heavy silence like it had every right to exist there, as if it wasn’t tearing me apart piece by piece, “you’ve never been in love, that’s why you are angry.”

For a second, I thought I misheard him.

My brows pulled together slightly, in disbelief.

Never been in love?

Was that what he thought?

Was that what all of this looked like to him?

I didn’t say anything.

I couldn’t.

Because if I opened my mouth right now, I wasn’t sure what would come out, words, or something far more broken.

“I’m happy that I can finally spend the rest of my life with Jewel,” he continued, that same smile still sitting comfortably on his lips. “She’s my one true love.”

His words squeezed my heart so tightly I could barely breathe, the ache settled into my bones and refused to leave.

The person you love, standing right in front of you, telling you how much they love someone else.

There was no comparison. No preparation for that kind of pain.

It hurts like hell. Worse than hell, actually.

Because hell, at least, was something you could imagine escaping from.

This felt endless.

But I didn’t let it show, not even a flicker.

Not even a crack.

Because he didn’t deserve to see it.

And more importantly, he wouldn’t care even if he did.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice calm, almost detached, like I was talking about something that didn’t matter at all. “And worry about the compensation.”

The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but I didn’t let that show either.

I turned before he could respond, before he could see anything more than what I was willing to give him.

My hand reached for the handle of my suitcase. I gripped it tightly. I couldn’t stand here another minute.

I couldn’t.

Because if I did, I would break.

And I refused to break in front of him.

“I don’t mind giving out all my life earnings just for her, Betty.” His voice followed me, each word landing like a deliberate strike against my back. “You don’t know how much I love her. And I’ll never love someone else that way.”

My fingers curled into a fist at my side, nails digging into my palm so hard I welcomed the sting.

It was better than this. Better than the way his words felt like they were attacking me, over and over again, each one sharper than the last.

I could feel his words stabbing my heart until it bled.

Until there was nothing left untouched.

The man I loved is standing there, smiling, confessing how much he loved someone else with pride, joy.

That means he didn’t even know. He didn’t even realize that I was madly in love with him.

Or maybe, he did. And it just didn’t matter.

That thought hit differently.

I said nothing.

What was there left to say?

There were no words strong enough to fix this.

No argument to be made.

No explanation that would suddenly make him see me differently.

So I stayed silent.

And I dragged my suitcases behind me.

Each step felt heavier than the last, like my body was resisting, like some part of me was still tied to this place, to him.

“I’ll send the divorce papers tomorrow morning, rest assured, Betty.” His voice came again, softer this time, reassuring me that we'd surely get divorced.

I didn’t turn around.

I didn’t respond to him.

I just kept walking.

Step by step. Step by step.

Each one taking me further away from him.

***

A bitter breath left my lips as I walked to my car.My fingers tightened around the handle of my suitcase as I dragged it toward it. The wheels scraped softly against the ground, the sound oddly loud in the silence.

No one to help, I told everyone to leave, I didn't want the news of me leaving playing online.

Just one picture, the world already knows, our popularity is unbeatable.

I lifted the suitcase with more force than necessary, shoving it into the boot of my car before closing it a little too hard.

I walked to the driver’s seat slowly, my heels clicking against the pavement before I opened the door and entered.

The moment the door shut, my hands rested on the steering wheel, but I didn’t start the engine immediately.

I just sat there trying to breathe.

His voice echoed again. “I’m happy that I can finally spend the rest of my life with Jewel.”

My fingers trembled slightly against the wheel.

I told myself to stop and start the car, and leave. I turned the key.

The engine roared to life, breaking the silence, but it didn’t break the noise in my head.

I pulled out slowly, the car gliding onto the road, headlights cutting through the darkness ahead.

I am going to my father’s mansion.

My grip on the wheel tightened.

The road stretched ahead of me, long and quiet, streetlights passing one after the other like a slow, endless countdown.

As I was driving, my mind wasn’t on the road.

It was stuck on the same words over and over again.

“She’s my one true love.”

A tear slipped down my cheek.

Then another.

I blinked, but it didn’t help.

The tears kept coming, silent at first, then heavier, blurring my vision until the lights ahead smeared into streaks.

I wiped at my face quickly with one hand, keeping the other on the wheel.

I need to focus.

But the pain refused to quiet down.

Why does it hurt this much?

I loved him.

I loved him so much and he never loved me.

A sob escaped me, loud and uncontrollable this time, my shoulders shaking as my vision blurred completely with tears.

I couldn’t see the road. A bright light suddenly flashed ahead.

My eyes widened.

My heart stopped.

A horn blared loudly and my hands jerked on the wheel without thinking.

The car swerved.

The tires screeched against the road.

Metal collided violently and glass shattered.

I could feel pain all over my body as everything went dark for a split second.

My head snapped forward, then back, the impact knocking the air out of my lungs completely.

I couldn’t breathe properly again.

My vision flickered, fading in and out as blood trickled down the side of my face.

My fingers twitched weakly against the steering wheel.

A tear slid slowly down my temple, mixing with the blood.