MIND YOUR DAMN BUSINESS

I stood there in the kitchen long after Damon had gone upstairs. The pasta I'd cooked was completely cold now and the sauce on it had thickened into a sad, sticky mess. I stared at it like it could somehow tell me why everything hurt so much.

Why did this one feel different?

He had brought random women home before, too many times. I would hide in my room with earphones in, trying to drown out their laughter and moans. But those girls never got gifts. They never made him dress up or smile like that. But this particular one… this one was getting something real from him. And that terrified me.

I started cleaning up, scraping the pasta into the bin and washing the pots. Wiping the counters so hard until my hands hurt. I was ready to do anything to keep moving so I wouldn’t fall apart right there on the kitchen floor.

“Three years, Hazel. Three years you’ve done this.”

I have been in love with this man since I first saw him at a gala after-party I attended with my parents at nineteen. So when my father first told me about the contract marriage between the Moretti’s and Ramirez's, I actually felt excited. I thought it was my chance to get closer to Damon. I thought being his wife would make him see me. So I tried. God, I tried so hard.

I was there when his deals went bad. I massaged his shoulders when he was stressed. I bought him watches and ties and cologne with the little money I had. I even defended him in front of my family even when they said he was too cold. And what did I get?

Nothing.

Just empty beds and the smell of other women on his clothes every single day.

I finally picked up my phone and dialed Sophia, my best friend. It rang three times before she answered.

“Hazel? Babe, what’s wrong?”

I leaned against the counter and closed my eyes. “He came home with another gift tonight, Soph. A really nice one wrapped with a silver ribbon and everything. When I asked who it was for… he told me to mind my own damn business. He said I should just sit there and watch.”

Sophia went quiet for a second. I could hear her moving around. “So he’s seeing someone serious, isn’t he?”

“I think… so,” I whispered and my voice cracked. “This one feels different. He’s being intentional—dressing up like a gentleman, smiling at his phone every time, buying jewelry. All the things I begged him to do for me… he’s doing them for her. Whoever she is.”

“Hazel… you already know what I’m going to say.”

“I know.” I wiped my eyes quickly. “I should sign the papers. I'm going to print them already. But every time I think about walking away, I get scared. What if I’m the problem? What if I’m not enough?”

“You are more than enough,” Sophia said firmly. “He’s the one who’s empty. Not you. Please… don’t let this new woman break you completely. You’ve already given him three years of your life to wreck. Don't deny yourself happiness again by staying in that marriage.”

We talked for a few more minutes. She tried to make me laugh. She always did. But after we hung up, the house felt even emptier.

I went upstairs to our bedroom. Well… his bedroom. I never got to sleep in that room since we got married, I always slept in the guest room most nights. I was married but I never felt my husband, never been touched. I was still a virgin after getting married for three fucking years. Sounds crazy right? Well that's my reality.

I placed a small box on his nightstand. A new pair of cufflinks I had bought last week. Simple but expensive. I hoped… I still hoped he would see it and maybe smile at me. Just once.

That night I barely slept. I kept hearing his voice in my head.

….Mind your own damn business, Hazel.

The next morning I woke up early like always. I made fresh coffee, scrambled eggs with tomatoes the way he liked. Crispy bacon. Toast with butter on the side. I even cut some fruits into salad and arranged everything nicely on the plate.

When Damon came downstairs, he looked good again. Fresh shirt. Hair perfect. He was already on his phone, typing something with a small smile on his face. That smile. The one that used to make my stomach flutter. Now it just made me feel sick.

“Good morning,” I said softly, when he pulled out one of the dining chairs and sat down, sliding the plate toward him. “I made breakfast.”

He sat down without looking at me. His thumbs kept moving on the screen.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

I raised an eyebrow at him. Thanks? Did I hear him well or was I dreaming? I stood there for a second, then picked up the small gift box I'd gone back to collect from his bedroom and placed it next to his plate.

“I got you these cufflinks. I thought they would look good with your black suits.”

Damon finally looked up. He glanced at the box, then at me. The small smile he had while texting disappeared completely.

“Hazel… what the fuck is this?”

“I just… I saw them and thought of you.”

He pushed the box away like it burned him. “I don’t want your gifts. I don’t want your breakfast. I don’t want any of this anymore.” He gestured between us. “I’ve asked you for a divorce so many times. Why are you still doing this to yourself?”

My eyes stung but I blinked fast. “Because I love you, Damon. I’ve loved you for years. I thought if I stayed… if I tried harder…”

He laughed coldly and stood up, leaving the food untouched. “Love? This isn’t love. This is you refusing to accept reality. I’m done pretending. There’s someone else now. Someone who actually makes me feel something. And unlike you, she doesn’t need to beg for my attention.”

He picked up his phone again. That same soft smile came back as he read a new message. He even chuckled quietly.

“Who is she?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “The one you’re texting. The one getting all the gifts.”

Damon looked at me like I was pathetic. “None of your business. But she’s everything you’re not.”

He grabbed his keys and walked toward the door. Before he left, he turned back one last time.

“As for you, you can keep cooking, keep buying gifts and keep waiting. One day you’ll get tired enough to sign those papers. Or maybe I’ll just bring her here and make you watch. Either way, this marriage is over.”

The door slammed behind him.

I sank down into the chair where he had been sitting. His plate was still full. The cufflinks sat unopened and my hands were shaking so badly I had to press them between my knees.

The tears I had been trying to compress finally fell.

“So he could love? He could be romantic? He could smile at his phone like a man in love?”

He just didn’t want to do any of those things for me.

And for the first time in three years, I started wondering if I was really ready to stop hoping and accept my reality.

But I didn't know this woman. I still needed to find out whoever was turning Damon into this man I had been praying for.

My phone buzzed on the counter. Sophia’s name flashed on the screen. But before I could answer, I heard Damon’s voice outside… talking softly to someone who had just arrived at the house.

A woman’s laugh floated through the front door.

My stomach dropped.